An African adventure

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From the

RUSSELL E. TRAIN
AFRICANA COLLECTION

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

ADVENTURES IN INTERVIEWING
PEACE AND BUSINESS
S. O. S:

America’s Miracle in France
THE BUSINESS OF WAR
THE REBIRTH OF RUSSIA
THE WAR AFTER THE WAR
LEONARD WOOD:

Prophet of Preparedness

KING ALBERT

AN AFRICAN
ADVENTURE

BY

ISAAC F. MARCOSSON

AUTHOR OF “ADVENTURES IN INTERVIEWING,” ETC.

NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY
LONDON: JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD
MCMXXI

COPYRIGHT -1921

BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY

COPYRIGHT -I92I
BY JOHN LANE COMPANY

THE PLIMPTON PRESS
NORWOOD -MASS'D-S ‘A

To

THOMAS F. RYAN

WHO FIRST BEHELD THE VISION
OF AMERICA IN THE
CONGO

FOREWORD

FROM earliest boyhood when I read the works of
Henry M. Stanley and books about Cecil Rhodes,
Africa has called to me. It was not until I met
General Smuts during the Great War, however, that I
had a definite reason for going there.

After these late years of blood and battle America
and Europe seemed tame. Besides, the economic
war after the war developed into a struggle as bitter
as the actual physical conflict. Discord and discon¬
tent became the portion of the civilized world. I wan¬
ted to get as far as possible from all this social unrest
and financial dislocation.

So much interest was evinced in the magazine
articles which first set forth the record of my jour¬
ney that I was prompted to expand them into this
book. It may enable the reader to discover a section
of the one-time Dark Continent without the hard¬
ships which I experienced.

I. F. M.

New York, April, 1921

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. Smuts . .

II. “ Cape-to-Cairo ” . 57

III. Rhodes and Rhodesia . 103

IV. The Congo Today . 139

V. On the Congo River . 177

VI. America in the Congo . * £25

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

King Albert . Frontispiece

Groote Schuur . facing page 28

General J. C. Smuts . 44

Mr. Marcosson’s Route in Africa . 56

Cecil Rhodes . 76

The Premier Diamond Mine . 90

Victoria Falls . 102

Cultivating Citrus Land in Rhodesia . 110

The Grave of Cecil Rhodes . 132

A Katanga Copper Mine . 138

Lord Leverhulme . 144

Robert Williams . 144

On the Lualaba . 150

A View on the Kasai . 150

A Station Scene at Kongola . 156

A Native Market at Kindu . 162

Native Fish Traps at Stanley Falls . 168

The Massive Bangalas . 176

Congo Women in State Dress . 176

Central African Pygmies . 182

Women Making Pottery . 190

The Congo Pickaninny . 190

The Heart of the Equatorial Forest . 198

Natives Piling Wood . 204

A Wood Post on the Congo . 204

Residential Quarters at Alberta . 210

The Comte de Flandre . 210

A Typical Oil Palm Forest . 216

12 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Bringing in the Palm Fruit . facing page 216

A Specimen of Cicatrization . 220

A Sankuru Woman Playing Native Draughts . 220

The Belgian Congo . 224

Thomas F. Ryan . 228

Jean Jadot . 236

Emile Francqui . 242

A Belle of the Congo . 246

Women of the Batetelas . 246

Fishermen on the Sankuru . . . 254

The Falls of the Sankuru . . . 254

A Congo Diamond Mine . . . . . 260

How the Mines Are Worked . 260

Gravel Carriers at a Congo Mine . . . . . 266

Congo Natives Picking out Diamonds . 266

Washing out Gravel . 272

Donald Doyle and Mr. Marcosson . 272

The Park at Boma . 278

A Street in Matadi . 278

A General View of Matadi . 282

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

CHAPTER I — SMUTS

I

TURN the searchlight on the political and eco¬
nomic chaos that has followed the Great War
and you find a surprising lack of real leader¬
ship. Out of the mists that enshroud the world welter
only three commanding personalities emerge. In Eng¬
land Lloyd George survives amid the storm of party
clash and Irish discord. Down in Greece Venizelos,
despite defeat, remains an impressive figure of high
ideals and uncompromising patriotism. Off in South
Africa Smuts gives fresh evidence of his vision and
authority.

Although he was Britain’s principal prop during
the years of agony and disaster, Lloyd George is, in
the last analysis, merely an eloquent and spectacular
politician with the genius of opportunism. One reason
why he holds his post is that there is no one to take his
place, — another commentary on the paucity of great¬
ness. There is no visible heir to Venizelos. Besides,
Greece is a small country without international touch
and interest. Smuts, youngest of the trio, looms up
as the most brilliant statesman of his day and his career
has just entered upon a new phase.

He is the dominating actor in a drama that not only
affects the destiny of the whole British Empire, but has

15

16

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

significance for every civilized nation. The quality of
striking contrast has always been his. The one-time
Boer General, who fought Roberts and Kitchener
twenty years ago, is battling with equal tenacity for the
integrity of the Imperial Union born of that war. Not
in all history perhaps, is revealed a more picturesque
situation than obtains in South Africa today. You
have the whole Nationalist movement crystallized into
a single compelling episode. In a word, it is contempo¬
rary Ireland duplicated without violence and ex¬
tremism.

I met General Smuts often during the Great War.
He stood out as the most intellectually alert, and in
some respects the most distinguished figure among the
array of nation-guiders with whom I talked, and I in¬
terviewed them all. I saw him as he sat in the British
War Cabinet when the German hosts were sweeping
across the Western Front, and when the German sub¬
marines were making a shambles of the high seas. I
heard him speak with persuasive force on public occa¬
sions and he was like a beacon in the gloom. He had
come to England in 1917 as the representative of Gen¬
eral Botha, the Prime Minister of the Union of South
Africa, to attend the Imperial Conference and to re¬
main a comparatively short time. So great was the
need of him that he did not go home until after the
Peace had been signed. He signed the Treaty under
protest because he believed it was uneconomic and it
has developed into the irritant that he prophesied it
would be.

In those war days when we foregathered, Smuts
often talked of “the world that would be.” The real
Father of the League of Nations idea, he believed that
out of the immense travail would develop a larger fra-

osi

SMUTS

17

ternity, economically sound and without sentimentality.
It was a great and yet a practical dream.

More than once he asked me to come to South
Africa. I needed little urging. From my boyhood the
land of Cecil Rhodes has always held a lure for me.
Smuts invested it with fresh interest. So I went.

The Smuts that I found at close range on his native
heath, wearing the mantle of the departed Botha, carry¬
ing on a Government with a minority, and with the
shadow of an internecine war brooding on the horizon,
was the same serene, clear-thinking strategist who had
raised his voice in the Allied Councils. Then the enemy
was the German and the task was to destroy the menace
of militarism. Now it was his own unreconstructed
Boer — blood of his blood, — and behind that Boer the
larger problem of a rent and dissatisfied universe,
waging peace as bitterly as it waged war. Smuts the
dreamer was again Smuts the fighter, with the fight of
his life on his hands.

Thus it came about that I found myself in Capetown.
Everybody goes out to South Africa from England on
those Union Castle boats so familiar to all readers of
English novels. Like the P. & O. vessels that Kipling
wrote about in his Indian stories, they are among the
favorite first aids to the makers of fiction. Hosts of
heroes in books — and some in real life — sail each year
to their romantic fate aboard them.

It was the first day of the South African winter when
I arrived, but back in America spring was in full
bloom. I looked out on the same view that had thrilled
the Portuguese adventurers of the fifteenth century
when they swept for the first time into Table Bay. Be¬
hind the harbor rose Table Mountain and stretching
from it downward to the sea was a land with verdure

18

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

clad and aglare with the African sun that was to scorch
my paths for months to come.

Capetown nestles at the foot of a vast flat-topped
mass of granite unique among the natural elevations of
the world. She is another melting pot. Here mingle
Kaffir and Boer, Basuto and Britisher, East Indian and
Zulu. The hardy rancher and fortune-hunter from the
North Country rub shoulders with the globe-trotter. In
the bustling streets modern taxicabs vie for space with
antiquated hansoms bearing names like “Never Say
Die,” “Home Sweet Home,” or “Honeysuckle.” All
the horse-drawn public vehicles have names.

You get a familiar feel of America in this South
African country and especially in the Cape Colony,
which is a place of fruits, flowers and sunshine re¬
sembling California. There is the sense of newness
in the atmosphere, and something of the abandon that
you encounter among the people of Australia and cer¬
tain parts of Canada. It comes from life spent in the
open and the spirit of pioneering that within a com¬
paratively short time has wrested a huge domain from
the savage.

What strikes the observer at once is the sharp con¬
flict of race, first, between black and white, and then,
between Briton and Boer. South of the Zambesi
River, — and this includes Rhodesia and the Union of
South Africa, — the native outnumbers the white more
than six to one and he is increasing at a much greater
rate than the European. Hence you have an inevitable
conflict. Race lies at the root of the South African
trouble and the racial reconciliation that Rhodes and
Botha set their hopes upon remains an elusive quantity.

I got a hint of what Smuts was up against the moment
I arrived. I had cabled him of my coming and he sent

SMUTS

19

an orderly to the steamer with a note of welcome and
inviting me to lunch with him at the House of Parlia¬
ment the next day. In the letter, among other things
he said: “You will find this a really interesting country,
full of curious problems.” How curious they were I
was soon to find out.

I called for him at his modest book-lined office in a
street behind the Parliament Buildings and we walked
together to the House. Heretofore I had only seen him
in the uniform of a Lieutenant General in the British
Army. Now he wore a loose-fitting lounge suit and a
slouch hat was jammed down on his head. In the
change from khaki to mufti — and few men can stand
up under this transition without losing some of the char¬
acter of their personal appearance, — he remained a
striking figure. There is something wistful in his face
— an indescribable look that projects itself not only
through you but beyond. It is not exactly preoccupa¬
tion but a highly developed concentration. This look
seemed to be enhanced by the ordeal through which he
was then passing. In his springy walk was a suggestion
of pugnacity. His whole manner was that of a man in
action and who exults in it. Roosevelt had the same
characteristic but he displayed it with much more anima¬
tion and strenuosity.

We sat down in the crowded dining room of the
House of Parliament where the Prime Minister had
invited a group of Cabinet Ministers and leading busi¬
ness men of Capetown. Around us seethed a noisy
swirl which reflected the turmoil of the South African
political situation. Parliament had just convened after
an historic election in which the Nationalists, the bitter
antagonists of Botha and Smuts, had elected a ma¬
jority of representatives for the first time. Smuts was

20

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

hanging on to the Premiership by his teeth. A sharp
division of vote, likely at any moment, would have over¬
thrown the Government. It meant a regime hostile to
Britain that carried with it secession and the remote
possibility of civil war.

In that restaurant, as throughout the whole Union,
Smuts was at that moment literally the observed of all
observers. Far off in London the powers-that-be were
praying that this blonde and bearded Boer could suc¬
cessfully man the imperial breach. Yet he sat there
smiling and unafraid and the company that he had
assembled discussed a variety of subjects that ranged
from the fall in exchange to the possibilities of the
wheat crop in America.

The luncheon was the first of various meetings with
Smuts. Some were amid the tumult of debate or in the
shadow of the legislative halls, others out in the country
at Groote Schuur , the Prime Minister’s residence, where
we walked amid the gardens that Cecil Rhodes loved,
or sat in the rooms where the Colossus “thought in terms
of continents.” It was a liberal education.

Before we can go into what Smuts said during these
interviews it is important to know briefly the whole
approach to the crowded hour that made the fullest
test of his resource and statesmanship. Clearly to
understand it you must first know something about the
Boer and his long stubborn struggle for independence
which ended, for a time at least, in the battle and blood
of the Boer War.

Capetown, the melting pot, is merely a miniature of
the larger boiling cauldron of race which is the Union
of South Africa. In America we also have an astonish¬
ing mixture of bloods but with the exception of the Bol¬
shevists and other radical uplifters, our population is

SMUTS

21

loyally dedicated to the American flag and the institu¬
tions it represents. With us Latin, Slav, Celt, and
Saxon have blended the strain that proved its mettle
as “Americans All” under the Stars and Stripes in
France. We have given succor and sanctuary to the
oppressed of many lands and these foreign elements,
in the main, have not only been grateful but have proved
to be distinct assets in our national expansion. We are
a merged people.

With South Africa the situation is somewhat differ¬
ent. The roots of civilization there were planted by the
Dutch in the days of the Dutch East India Company
when Holland was a world power. The Dutchman is
a tenacious and stubborn person. Although the Hugue¬
nots emigrated to the Cape in considerable force in the
seventeenth century and intermarried with the trans¬
planted Hollanders, the Dutch strain, and with it the
Dutch characteristics predominated. They have shaped
South African history ever since. This is why the Boer
is still referred to in popular parlance as “a Dutchman.”

The Dutch have always been a proud and liberty-
loving people, as the Duke of Alva and the Spaniard
learned to their cost. This inherited desire for freedom
has flamed in the hearts of the Boers. In the early
African day they preferred to journey on to the wild
and unknown places rather than sacrifice their inde¬
pendence. What is known as “The Great Trek” of
the thirties, which opened up the Transvaal and subse¬
quently the Orange Free State and Natal, was due
entirely to unrest among the Cape Boers. There is
something of the epic in the narrative of those doughty,
psalm-singing trekkers who, like the Mormons in the
American West, went forth in their canvas-covered
wagons with a rifle in one hand and the Bible in the

22

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

other. They fought the savage, endured untold hard¬
ships, and met fate with a grim smile on their lips. It
took Britain nearly three costly years to subdue their
descendants, an untrained army of farmers.

A revelation of the Boer character, therefore, is an
index to the South African tangle. His enemies call
the Boer “a combination of cunning and childishness.”
As a matter of fact the Boer is distinct among in¬
dividualists. “Oom Paul” Kruger was a type. A
fairly familiar story will concretely illustrate what lies
within and behind the race. On one occasion his thumb
was nearly severed in an accident. With his pocket-
knife he cut off the finger, bound up the wound with a
rag, and went about his business.

The old Boer — and the type survives — was a Puri¬
tan who loved his five-thousand-acre farm where he
could neither see nor hear his neighbors, who read the
Good Word three times a day, drank prodigious quan¬
tities of coffee, spoke “taal” the Dutch dialect, and
reared a huge family. Botha, for example, was one
of thirteen children, and his father lamented to his
dying day that he had not done his full duty by his
country !

Isolation was the Boer fetich. This instinct for aloof¬
ness, — principally racial, — animates the sincere wing
of the Nationalist Party today. Men like Botha and
Smuts and their followers adapted themselves to assimi¬
lation but there remained the “bitter-end” element that
rebelled in arms against the constituted authority in
1914 and had to be put down with merciless hand. This
element now seeks to achieve through more peaceful
ends what it sought to do by force the moment Britain
became involved in the Great War. The reason for the
revolt of 1914, in a paragraph, was Britain’s far-flung

SMUTS

23

call to arms. The unreconstructed Boers refused to
fight for the Power that humbled them in 1902. They
seized the moment to make a try for what they called
“emancipation.”

To go back for a moment, when the British conquered
the Cape and thousands of Englishmen streamed out to
Africa to make their fortunes, the Boer at once bristled
with resentment. His isolation was menaced. He re¬
garded the Briton as an “ Uitlander " — an outsider —
and treated him as an undesirable alien. In the Trans¬
vaal and the Orange Free State he was denied the rights
that are accorded to law-abiding citizens in other coun¬
tries. Hence the Jameson Raid, which was an ill-
starred protest against the narrow, copper-riveted Boer
rule, and later the final and sanguinary show-down in
the Boer War, which ended the dream of Boer in¬
dependence.

In 1910 was established the Union of South Africa,
comprising the Transvaal, the Orange Free State, Natal
and the Cape Colony which obtained responsible govern¬
ment and which is to all intents and purposes a dominion
as free as Australia or Canada. England sends out
a Governor-General, usually a high-placed and titled
person but he is a be-medalled figure-head, — an orna¬
mental feature of the landscape. His principal labours
are to open fairs, attend funerals, preside at harmless
gatherings, and bestow decorations upon worthy per¬
sons. First Botha, and later Smuts, have been the real
rulers of the country.

The Union Constitution decreed that bi-lingualism
must prevail. As a result every public notice, docu¬
ment, and time-table is printed in both English and
Dutch. The tie of language is a strong one and this
eternal and unuttered presence of the “ taal3 * has been

24

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

an asset for the Nationalists to exploit. It is a link with
the days of independence.

Following the Boer War came a sharp cleavage
among the Boers. That great farm-bred soldier and
statesman, Louis Botha, accepted the verdict and be¬
came the leader of what might be called a reconciled
reconstruction. Firm in the belief that the future of
South Africa was greater than the smaller and selfish
issue of racial pride and prejudice, he rallied his open-
minded and far-seeing countrymen around him. Out
of this group developed the South African Party which
remains the party of the Dutch loyal to British rule.
To quote the program of principles, “Its political object
is the development of a South African spirit of national
unity and self-reliance through the attainment of the
lasting union of the various sections of the people.”

Botha was made Premier of the Transvaal as soon
as the Colony was granted self-government and with the
accomplishment of Union was named Prime Minister
of the Federation. The first man that he called to the
standard of the new order to become his Colonial
Minister, or more technically, Minister of the Interior,
was Smuts, who had left his law office in Johannesburg
to fight the English in 1900 and who displayed the same
consummate strategy in the field that he has since shown
in Cabinet meeting and Legislative forum. With peace
he returned to law but not for long. Now began his
political career — he has held public office continuously
ever since — that is a vital part of the modern history of
South Africa.

In the years immediately following Union the genius
of Botha had full play. He wrought a miracle of
evolution. Under his influence the land which still bore
the scars of war was turned to plenty. He was a farmer

SMUTS

25

and he bent his energy and leadership to the rebuilding
of the shattered commonwealths. Their hope lay in the
soil. His right arm was Smuts, who became succes¬
sively Minister of Finance and Minister of Public
Defense.

The belief that reconciliation had dawned was rudely
disturbed when the Great War crashed into civilization.
The extreme Nationalists rebelled and it was Botha,
aided by Smuts, who crushed them. Beyers, the ring¬
leader, was drowned while trying to escape across the
Vaal River, DeWet was defeated in the field, De la
Rey was accidentally shot, and Maritz became a fugi¬
tive. Botha then conquered the Germans in German
South-West Africa and Smuts subsequently took over
the command of the Allied Forces in German East
Africa. When Botha died in 1919 Smuts not only
assumed the Premiership of the Union but he also in¬
herited the bitter enmity that General J. B. M. Hertzog
bore towards his lamented Chief.

Now we come to the crux of the whole business, past
and present. Who is Hertzog and what does he stand
for?

If you look at your history of the Boer War you
will see that one of the first Dutch Generals to take the
field and one of the last to leave it was Hertzog, an
Orange Free State lawyer who had won distinction on
the Bench. He helped to frame the Union Constitution
and on the day he signed it, declared that it was a distinct
epoch in his life. A Boer of the Boers, he seemed to
catch for the moment, the contagion that radiated from
Botha and spelled a Greater South Africa.

Botha made him Minister of Justice and all was well.
But deep down in his heart Hertzog remained unre¬
pentant. When the question of South Africa’s contri-

26

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

bution to the Imperial Navy came up in 1912 he fought
it tooth and nail. In fiery utterances attacking the
Government he denounced Botha as a jingoist and an
imperialist. Just about this time he made the famous
speech in which he stated his ideal of South Africa. He
declared that Briton and Boer were “two separate
streams — two nationalities each flowing in a separate
channel. The “two streams” slogan is now the Nation¬
alist battlecry.

Such procedure on the part of Hertzog demanded
prompt action on the part of Botha, who called upon his
colleague either to suppress his particular brand of
anathema or resign. Hertzog not only built a bigger
bonfire of denunciation but refused to resign.

Botha thereupon devised a unique method of ridding
himself of his uncongenial Minister. He resigned, the
Government fell, and the Cabinet dissolved automati¬
cally. Hertzog was left out in the cold. The Governor-
General immediately re-appointed Botha Prime Min¬
ister and he reorganized his Cabinet without the un¬
desirable Hertzog.

Hertzog became the Stormy Petrel of South Africa,
vowing vengeance against Botha and Britain. He
galvanized the Nationalist Party, which up to this time
had been merely a party of opposition, into what was
rapidly becoming a flaming secession movement. The
South African Party developed into the only really
national party, while its opponent, although bearing the
name of National, was solely and entirely racial.

The first real test of strength was in the election of
1915. The campaign was bitter and belligerent. The
venom of the Nationalist Party was concentrated on
Smuts. Many of his meetings became bloody riots. He
was the target for rotten fruit and on one occasion an

SMUTS

27

attempt was made on his life. The combination of the
Botha personality and the Smuts courage and reason
won out and the South African Party remained in
power.

Undaunted, Hertzog carried on the fight. He soon
had the supreme advantage of having the field to him¬
self because Botha was off fighting the Germans and
Smuts had gone to England to help mould the Allied
fortunes. The Nationalist leader made hay while the
red sun of war shone. Every South African who died
on the battlefield was for him just another argument
for separation from England.

When Ireland declared herself a “republic” Hertzog
took the cue and counted his cause in with that of the
“small nations” that needed self-determination. “Afrika
for the Afrikans,” the old motto of the Afrikander
Bond , was unfurled from the masthead and the sedition
spread. It not only recruited the Boers who had an
ancient grievance against Great Britain, but many
others who secretly resented the Botha and Smuts inti¬
macy with “the conquerors.” Some were sons and
grandsons of the old “ Vortrekkers ” who not only de¬
lighted to speak the utaal” exclusively but who had
never surrendered the ideal of independence.

While the Dutch movement in South Africa strongly
resembles the Irish rebellion there are also some marked
differences. In South Africa there is no religious
barrier and as a result there has been much intermarriage
between Briton and Boer. The English in South Africa
bear the same relation to the Nationalist movement
there that the Ulsterites bear to the Sinn Feiners in
Ireland. Instead of being segregated as are the fol¬
lowers of Sir Edward Carson, they are scattered
throughout the country.

28

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

At the General Election held early in 1920, —
general elections are held every five years, — the results
were surprising. The Nationalists returned a majority
of four over the South African Party in Parliament.
It left Smuts to carry on his Government with a
minority. To add to his troubles, the Labour Party, —
always an uncertain proposition, — increased its repre¬
sentation from a mere handful to twenty-one, while the
Unionists, who comprise the straight-out English-
speaking Party, whose stronghold is Natal, suffered
severe losses. Smuts could not very well count the latter
among his open allies because it would have alienated
the hard-shell Boers in the South African Party.

This was the situation that I found on my arrival in
Capetown. On one hand was Smuts, still Prime Min¬
ister, taxing his every resource as parliamentarian and
pacificator to maintain the Union and prevent a revolt
from Britain — all in the face of a bitter and hostile
majority. On the other hand was Hertzog, bent on
secession and with a solid array of discontents behind
him. The two former comrades of the firing line, as
the heads of their respective groups, were locked in a
momentous political life-and-death struggle the out-
come of which may prove to be the precedent for
Ireland, Egypt, and India.

Photograph Copyright South African Railways

II

YET SMUTS continued as Premier which
means that he brought the life of Parliament
to a close without a sharp division. More¬
over, he manoeuvered his forces into a position that
saved the day for Union and himself. How did he do it?

I can demonstrate one way and with a rather per¬
sonal incident. During the week I spent in Capetown
Smuts was an absorbed person as you may imagine.
The House was in session day and night and there were
endless demands on him. The best opportunities that
we had for talk were at meal-time. One evening I
dined with him in the House restaurant. When we
sat down we thought that we had the place to ourselves.
Suddenly Smuts cast his eye over the long room and saw
a solitary man just commencing his dinner in the oppo¬
site corner. Turning to me he said :

“Do you know Cresswell?”

“I was introduced to him yesterday,” I replied.
“Would you mind if I asked him to dine with us?”
When I assured him that I would be delighted, the
Prime Minister got up, walked over to Cress well and
asked him to join us, which he did.

The significant part of this apparently simple per¬
formance, which had its important outcome, was this.
Colonel F. H. P. Cresswell is the leader of the Labour
Party in South Africa. Ev profession a mining en¬
gineer, he led the forces of revolt in the historic industrial
upheaval in the Rand in what Smuts denounced as a

29

30

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

“Syndicalist Conspiracy/5 Riot, bloodshed, and con¬
fusion reigned for a considerable period at Johannes¬
burg and large bodies of troops had to be called out to
restore order* At the very moment that we sat down to
dine that night no one knew just what Cresswell and
the Labourites with their new-won power would do.
Smuts, as Minister of Finance, had deported some of
Cresswell’s men and Cresswell himself narrowly es¬
caped drastic punishment.

When Smuts brought Cresswell over he said jokingly
to me:

“Cresswell is a good fellow but I came near send¬
ing him to jail once.55

Cresswell beamed and the three of us amiably dis¬
cussed various topics until the gong sounded for the
assembling of the House.

What was the result ? Before I left Capetown and
when the first of the few occasions which tested the real
voting strength of Parliament arose, Cresswell and
some of his adherents voted with Smuts. I tell this
little story to show that the man who today holds the
destiny of South Africa in his hands is as skillful a
diplomat as he is soldier and statesman.

It was at one of these quiet dinners with Smuts at
the House that he first spoke about Nationalism. He
said: “The war gave Nationalism its death blow. But
as a matter of fact Nationalism committed suicide in
the war.55

“But what is Nationalism?55 I asked him.

“A water-tight nation in a water-tight compartment,55
he replied. “It is a process of regimentation like the
old Germany that will soon merge into a new Inter¬
nationalism. What seems to be at this moment an orgy
of Nationalism in South Africa or elsewhere is merely

SMUTS

31

its death gasp. The New World will be a world of
individualism dominated by Britain and America.

“What about the future?” I asked him. His answer
was:

“The safety of the future depends upon Federation,
upon a League of Nations that will develop along
economic and not purely sentimental lines. The New
Internationalism will not stop war but it can regulate
exchange, and through this regulation can help to pre¬
vent war.

“I believe in an international currency which will be
a sort of legal tender among all the nations. Why
should the currency of the country depreciate or rise
with the fortunes of war or with its industrial or other
complications? Misfortune should not be penalized
fiscally.”

I brought up the question of the lack of accord which
then existed between Britain and America and suggested
that perhaps the fall in exchange had something to do
with it, whereupon he said: “Yes, I think it has. It
merely illustrates the point that I have just made about
an international currency.”

We came back to the subject of individualism, which
led Smuts to say:

“The Great War was a striking illustration of the
difference between individualism and nationalism.
Hindenberg commanded the only army in the war. It
was a product of nationalism. The individualism of
the Anglo-Saxon is such that it becomes a mob but it
is an intelligent mob. Haig and Pershing commanded
such mobs.”

I tried to probe Smuts about Russia. He was in
London when I returned from Petrograd in 1917 and I
recall that he displayed the keenest interest in what

82

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

I told him about Kerensky and the new order that I had
seen in the making. I heard him speak at a Russian
Fair in London. The whole burden of his utterance
was the hope that the Slav would achieve discipline and
organization. At that time Russia redeemed from au¬
tocracy looked to be a bulwark of Allied victory. The
night we talked about Russia at Capetown she had
become the prey of red terror and the plaything of
organized assassination.

Smuts looked rather wistful when he said:

“You cannot defeat Russia. Napoleon learned this
to his cost and so will the rest of the world. I do not
know whether Bolshevism is advancing or subsiding.
There comes a time when the fiercest fires die down.
But the best way to revive or rally all Russsia to the
Soviet Government is to invade the country and to
annex large slices of it.”

These utterances were made during those more or
less hasty meals at the House of Parliament when the
Premier’s mind was really in the Legislative Hall near¬
by where he was fighting for his administrative life.
It was far different out at Groote Schuur, the home of
the Prime Minister, located in Rondebosch, a suburb
about nine miles from Capetown. In the open country
that he loves, and in an environment that breathed the
romance and performance of England’s greatest empire-
builder, I caught something of the man’s kindling vision
and realized his ripe grasp of international events.

Groote Schuur is one of the best-known estates in
the world. Cecil Rhodes in his will left it to the Union
as the permanent residence of the Prime Minister. Ever
since I read the various lives of Rhodes I had had an
impatient desire to see this shrine of achievement. Here
Rhodes came to live upon bis accession to the Premier-

SMUTS

aa

ship of the Cape Colony; here he fashioned the British
South Africa Company which did for Rhodesia what
the East India Company did for India; here came
prince and potentate to pay him honour ; here he dreamed
his dreams of conquest looking out at mountain and
sea; here lived Jameson and Kipling; here his remains
lay in state when at forty-nine the fires of his restless
ambition had ceased.

Groote Schuur, which in Dutch means “Great
Granary,” was originally built as a residence and store¬
house for one of the early Dutch Governors of the Cape.
It is a beautiful example of the Dutch architecture that
you will find throughout the Colony and which is not
surpassed in grace or comfort anywhere. When Rhodes
acquired it in the eighties the grounds were compara¬
tively limited. As his power and fortune increased he
bought up all the surrounding country until today you
can ride for nine miles across the estate. You find
no neat lawns and dainty flower-beds. On the place,
as in the house itself, you get the sense of bigness and
simplicity which were the keynotes of the Rhodes
character.

One reason why Rhodes acquired Groote Schuur was
that behind it rose the great bulk of Table Mountain.
He loved it for its vastness and its solitude. On the
back stoep , which is the Dutch word for porch, he sat
for hours gazing at this mountain which like the man
himself was invested with a spirit of immensity.

It was a memorable experience to be at Groote Schuur
with Smuts, who has lived to see the realization of the
hope of Union which thrilled always in the heart of
Cecil Rhodes. I remember that on the first night I
went out the Prime Minister took me through the house
himself. It has been contended by Smuts5 enemies

34

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

that he was a “creature of Rhodes.” I discovered that
Smuts, with the exception of having made a speech of
welcome when Rhodes visited the school that he attended
as a boy, had never even met the Englishman who left
his impress upon a whole land.

Groote Schuur has been described so much that it is
not necessary for me to dwell upon its charm and at¬
mosphere here. To see it is to get a fresh and intimate
realization of the personality which made the establish¬
ment an unofficial Chancellery of the British Empire.

Two details, however, have poignant and dramatic
interest. In the simple, massive, bed-room with its
huge bay window opening on Table Mountain and a
stretch of lovely countryside, hangs the small map of
Africa that Rhodes marked with crimson ink and about
which he made the famous utterance, “It must be all
red.” Hanging on the wall in the billiard room is the
flag with Crescent and Cape device that he had made to
be carried by the first locomotive to travel from Cairo
to the Cape. That flag has never been unfurled to the
breeze but the vision that beheld it waving in the heart
of the jungle is soon to become an accomplished fact.

It was on a night at Groote Schuur , as I walked with
Smuts through the acres of hydrangeas and bougain¬
villea (Rhodes’ favorite flowers) , with a new moon peep¬
ing overhead that I got the real mood of the man. Point¬
ing to the faint silvery crescent in the sky I said: “Gen¬
eral, there’s a new moon over us and I’m sure it means
good luck for you.”

“No,” he replied, “it’s the man that makes the luck.”

He had had a trying day in the House and was silent
in the motor car that brought us out. The moment we
reached the country and he sniffed the scent of the gar¬
dens the anxiety and preoccupation fell away. He al-

SMUTS

35

most became boyish. But when he began to discuss
great problems the lightness vanished and he became
the serious thinker.

We harked back to the days when I had first seen
him in England. I asked him to tell me what he thought
of the aftermath of the stupendous struggle. He said:

“The war was just a phase of world convulsion. It
made the first rent in the universal structure. For years
the trend of civilization was toward a super-Nationalism.
It is easy to trace the stages. The Holy Roman Empire
was a phase of Nationalism. That was Catholic. Then
came the development of Nationalism, beginning with
Napoleon. That was Protestant. Now began the build¬
ing of water-tight compartments, otherwise known as
nations. Germany represented the most complete de¬
velopment.

“But that era of ‘my country,’ ‘my power,’ — it is
all a form of national ego, — is gone. The four great
empires, — Turkey, Germany, Russia and Austria, —
have crumbled. The war jolted them from their high
estate. It started the universal cataclysm. Centuries
in the future some perspective can be had and the results
appraised.

“Meanwhile, we can see the beginning. The world
is one. Humanity is one and must be one. The war,
at terrible cost, brought the peoples together. The
League of Nations is a faint and far-away evidence
of this solidarity. It merely points the way but it is
something. It is not academic formulas that will unite
the peoples of the world but intelligence.”

Smuts now turned his thought to a subject not with¬
out interest for America, for he said:

“The world has been brought together by the press,
by wireless, indeed by all communication which represents

36

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

the last word in scientific development. Yet political
institutions cling to old and archaic traditions. Take
the Presidency of the United States. A man waits for
four months before he is inaugurated. The incumbent
may work untold mischief in the meantime. It is all due
to the fact that in the days when the American Consti¬
tution was framed the stagecoach and the horse were
the only means of conveyance. The world now travels
by aeroplane and express train, yet the antiquated
habits continue.

“So with political parties and peoples, the British
Empire included. They need to be brought abreast
of the times. The old pre-war British Empire, for
example, is gone in the sense of colonies or subordinate
nations clustering around one master nation. The
British Empire itself is developing into a real League
of Nations, — a group of partner peoples.”

“What of America and the future?” I asked him.

“America is the leaven of the future,” answered
Smuts. “She is the life-blood of the League of Nations.
Without her the League is stifled. America will give
the League the peace temper. You Americans are a
pacific people, slow to war but terrible and irresistible
when you once get at it. The American is an individ¬
ualist and in that new and inevitable internationalism the
individual will stand out, the American pre-eminently.”

Throughout this particular experience at Groote
Schuur I could not help marvelling on the contrast that
the man and the moment presented. We walked
through a place of surpassing beauty. Ahead brooded
the black mystery of the mountains and all around was
a fragrant stillness broken only by the quick, almost
passionate speech of this seer and thinker, animate with
an inspiring ideal of public service, whose mind leaped

SMUTS

37

from the high places of poetry and philosophy on to
the hiving battlefield of world event. It seemed almost
impossible that nine miles away at Capetown raged the
storm that almost within the hour would again claim
him as its central figure.

The Smuts statements that I have quoted were made
long before the Presidential election in America. I do
not know just what Smuts thinks of the landslide that
overwhelmed the Wilson administration and with it that
well-known Article X, but I do know that he genuinely
hopes that the United States somehow will have a share
in the new international stewardship of the world. He
would welcome any order that would enable us to play
our part.

No one can have contact with Smuts without feeling
at once his intense admiration for America. One of his
ambitions is to come to the United States. It is char¬
acteristic of him that he has no desire to see skyscrapers
and subways. His primary interest is in the great farms
of the West. “Your people,” he once said to me, “have
made farming a science and I wish that South Africa
could emulate them. We have farms in vast area but
we have not yet attained an adequate development.”

I was amazed at his knowledge of American litera¬
ture. He knows Hamilton backwards, has read dili¬
gently about the life and times of Washington, and is
familiar with Irving, Poe, Hawthorne and Emerson.
One reason why he admires the first American Presi¬
dent is because he was a farmer. Smuts knows as much
about rotation of crops and successful chicken raising
as he does about law and politics. He said:

“I am an eighty per cent farmer and a Boer, and most
people think a Boer is a barbarian.”

Despite his scholarship he remains what he delights

38

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

to call himself, “a Boer.” He still likes the simple Boer
things, as this story will show. During the war, while
he was a member of the British War Cabinet and when
Lloyd George leaned on him so heavily for a multitude
of services, a young South African Major, fresh from
the Transvaal, brought him a box of home delicacies.
The principal feature of this package was a piece of
what the Boers call “biltong,” which is dried venison.
The Major gave the package to an imposing servant in
livery at the Savoy Hotel, where the General lived, to
be delivered to him. Smuts was just going out and en¬
countered the man carrying it in. When he learned
that it was from home, he grabbed the box, saying:
“I’ll take it up myself.” Before he reached his apart¬
ment he was chewing away vigorously on a mouthful
of “biltong” and having the time of his life.

The contrast between Smuts and his predecessor
Botha is striking. These two men, with the possible
exception of Kruger, stand out in the annals of the
Boer. Kruger was the dour, stolid, canny, provincial
trader. The only time that his interest ever left the
confines of the Transvaal was when he sought an alliance
with William Hohenzollern, and that person, I might
add, failed him at the critical moment.

Botha was the George Washington of South Africa.
— the farmer who became Premier. He was big of
body and of soul, — big enough to know when he was
beaten and to rebuild out of the ruins. Even the Nation¬
alists trusted him and they do not trust Smuts. It is
the old story of the prophet in his own country. There
are many people in South Africa today who believe that
if Botha were alive there would be no secession move¬
ment.

The Boers who oppose him politically call Smuts

SMUTS

39

“Slim Jannie.” The Dutch word “slim” means tricky
and evasive. Not so very long ago Smuts was in
a conference with some of his countrymen who were not
altogether friendly to him. He had just remarked on
the long drought that was prevailing. One of the men
present went to the window and looked out. When asked
the reason for this action he replied:

“Smuts says that there’s a drought. I looked out
to see if it was raining.”

When you come to Smuts in this analogy you behold
the Alexander Hamilton of his nation, the brilliant
student, soldier, and advocate. Of all his Boer con¬
temporaries he is the most cosmopolitan. Nor is this
due entirely to the fact that he went to Cambridge
where he left a record for scholarship, and speaks Eng¬
lish with a decided accent. It is because he has what
might be called world sense. His career, and more es¬
pecially his part at the Peace Conference and since, is
a dramatization of it.

To the student of human interest Smuts is a fertile
subject. His life has been a cinema romance shot
through with sharp contrasts. Here is one of them.
When leaders of the shattered Boer forces gathered in
V ereeniging to discuss the Peace Terms with Kitchener
in 1902, Smuts, who commanded a flying guerilla
column, was besieging the little mining town of O’okiep.
He received a summons from Botha to attend. It was
accompanied by a safe-conduct pass signed “D. Haig,
Colonel.” Later Haig and Smuts stood shoulder to
shoulder in a common cause and helped to save civi¬
lization.

Smuts is more many-sided than any other contem¬
porary Prime Minister and for that matter, those that
have gone into retirement, that is, men like Asquith in

40

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

England and Clemenceau in France. Among world
statesmen the only mind comparable to his is that of
Woodrow Wilson. They have in common a high in¬
tellectuality. But Wilson in his prime lacked the hard
sense and the accurate knowledge of men and practical
affairs which are among the chief Smuts assets.

Speaking of Premiers brings me to the inevitable
comparison betwen Smuts and Lloyd George. I have
seen them both in varying circumstances, both in public
and in private and can attempt some appraisal.

Each has been, and remains, a pillar of Empire.
Each has emulated the Admirable Crichton in the
variety and multiplicity of public posts. Lloyd George
has held five Cabinet posts in England and Smuts has
duplicated the record in South Africa. Each man is an
inspired orator who owes much of his advancement to
eloquent tongue. Their platform manner is totally
different. Lloyd George is fascinatingly magnetic in
and out of the spotlight while Smuts is more coldly logi¬
cal. When you hear Lloyd George you are stirred and
even exalted by his golden imagery. The sound of his
voice falls on the ear like music. You admire the daring
of his utterance but you do not always remember every¬
thing he says.

With Smuts you listen and you remember. He has no
tricks of the spellbinder’s trade. He is forceful, con¬
vincing, persuasive, and what is more important, has
the quality of permanency. Long after you have left
his presence the words remain in your memory. If I
had a case in court I would like to have Smuts try it.
His specialty is pleading.

Lloyd George seldom reads a book. The only vol¬
umes I ever heard him say that he had read were Mr.
Dooley and a collection of the Speeches of Abraham

SMUTS

41

Lincoln. He has books read for him and with a
Roosevelt faculty for assimilation, gives you the impres¬
sion that he has spent his life in a library.

Smuts is one of the best-read men I have met. He
seems to know something about everything. He ranges
from Joseph Conrad to Kant, from Booker Washing¬
ton to Tolstoi. History, fiction, travel, biography, have
all come within his ken. I told him I proposed to go
from Capetown to the Congo and possibly to Angola.
His face lighted up. “Ah, yes,” he said, “I have read
all about those countries. I can see them before me in
my mind’s eye.”

One night at dinner at Groote Schuur we had sweet
potatoes. He asked me if they were common in
America. I replied that down in Kentucky where I was
born one of the favorite negro dishes was “ ’possum and
sweet potatoes.” He took me up at once saying:

“Oh, yes, I have read about ‘ ’possum pie’ in Joel
Chandler Harris’ books.” Then he proceeded to tell
me what a great institution “Br’er Rabbit” was.

We touched on German poetry and I quoted two lines
that I considered beautiful. When I remarked that
I thought Heine was the author he corrected me by
proving that they were written by Schiller.

Lloyd George could never carry on a conversation
like this for the simple reason that he lacks familiarity
with literature. He feels perhaps like the late Charles
Frohman who, on being asked if he read the dramatic
papers said: “Why should I read about the theatre. I
make dramatic history.”

I asked Smuts what he was reading at the moment.
He looked at me with some astonishment and answered,
“Nothing except public documents. It’s a good thing
that I was able to do some reading before I became
Prime Minister. I certainly have no time now.”

42

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

Take the matter of languages. Lloyd George has
always professed that he did not know French, and on
all his trips to France both during and since the war
he carried a staff of interpreters. He understands a
good deal more French than he professes. His widely
proclaimed ignorance of the language has stood him in
good stead because it has enabled him to hear a great
many things that were not intended for his ears. It is
part of his political astuteness. Smuts is an accom¬
plished linguist. It has been said of him that he “can be
silent in more languages than any man in South Africa.”

Lloyd George is a clever politician with occasional
inspired moments but he is not exactly a statesman as
Disraeli and Gladstone were. Smuts has the unusual
combination of statesmanship with a knowledge of every
wrinkle in the political game.

Take his experience at the Paris Peace Conference.
He was distinguished not so much for what he did,
(and that was considerable), but for what he opposed.
No man was better qualified to voice the sentiment of
the “small nation.” Born of proud and liberty-loving
people, — an infant among the giants — he was attuned
to every aspiration of an hour that realized many a one¬
time forlorn national hope. Yet his statesmanship tem¬
pered sentimental impulse.

In that gallery of treaty-makers Lloyd George, Cle-
menceau, and Wilson focussed the “fierce light” that
beat about the proceedings. But it was Smuts, in the
shadow, who contributed largely to the mental power-
plant that drove the work. Lloyd George had to con¬
sider the chapter he wrote in the great instrument as
something in the nature of a campaign document to be
employed at home, while Clemenceau guided a steam¬
roller that stooped for nothing but France. The more

SMUTS

43

or less unsophisticated idealism of Woodrow Wilson
foundered on these obstacles.

Smuts, with his uncanny sense of prophecy, foretold
the economic consequences of the peace. Looking ahead
he visualized a surly and unrepentant Germany, un¬
willing to pay the price of folly; a bitter and disap¬
pointed Austria gasping for economic breath; an
aroused and indignant Italy raging with revolt — all
the chaos that spells “peace” today. He saw the Treaty
as a new declaration of war instead of an antidote for
discord. His judgment, sadly enough, has been con¬
firmed. A deranged universe shot through with re¬
action and confusion, and with half a dozen wars sputter¬
ing on the horizon, is the answer. The sob and surge
of tempest-born nations in the making are lost in the
din of older ones threatened with decay and disintegra¬
tion. It is not a pleasing spectacle.

Smuts signed the Treaty but, as most people know,
he filed a memorandum of protest and explanation. He
believed the terms uneconomic and therefore unsound,
but it was worth taking a chance on interpretation, a des¬
perate venture perhaps, but anything to stop the blare
and bicker of the council table and start the work of
reconstruction.

At Capetown he told me that for days he wrestled
with the problem “to sign or not to sign.” Finally, on
the day before the Day of Days in the Hall of Mirrors
at Versailles, he took a long solitary walk in the Champs
Elysee, loveliest of Paris parades. Returning to his
hotel he said to his secretary, Captain E. F. C. Lane,
“I have decided to sign, but I will tell the reason why.”
He immediately sat down at his desk and in a hand¬
writing noted for its illegibility wrote the famous memo¬
randum.

Ill

WHAT of the personal side of Smuts? While
he is intensely human it is difficult to con¬
nect anecdote with him. I heard one at
Capetown, however, that I do not think has seen the
light of print. It reveals his methods, too.

When the Germans ran amuck in 1914 Smuts was
Minister of Defense of the Union of South Africa.
The Nationalists immediately began to make life un¬
comfortable for him. Balked in their attempt to keep
the Union out of the struggle they took another tack.
After the Botha campaign in German South-West
Africa was well under way, a member of the Opposition
asked the Minister of Defense the following question in
Parliament: “How much has South Africa paid for
horses in the field and the Nationalists sought to make
some political capital out of an expenditure that they
remounts?” The Union forces employed thousands of
called “waste.”

Smuts sent over to Army Headquarters to get the
figures. He was told that it would take twenty clerks
at least four weeks to compile the data.

“Never mind,” was his laconic comment. The next
day happened to be Question Day in the House. As
soon as the query about the remount charge came up
Smuts calmly rose in his seat and replied:

“It was exactly eight million one hundred and sixty-
nine thousand pounds, ten shillings and sixpence.” He
then sat down without any further remark.

44

I - 1

Photograph Copyright by Harris 6‘ Ewing

GENERAL J. C. SMUTS

SMUTS

45

When one of his colleagues asked him where he got
this information he said:

“I dug it out of my own mind. It will take the
Nationalists a month to figure it out and by that time
they will have forgotten all about it.” And it was
forgotten.

Smuts not only has a keen sense of humor but is
swift on the retort. While speaking at a party rally in
his district not many years after the Boer War he was
continually interrupted by an ex-soldier. He stopped
his speech and asked the man to state his grievance.
The heckler said:

“General de la Rey guaranteed the men fighting
under him a living.”

Quick as a flash Smuts replied :

“Nonsense. What he guaranteed you was certain
death.”

Like many men conspicuous in public life Smuts gets
up early and has polished off a good day’s work before
the average business man has settled down to his job.
There is a big difference between his methods of work
and those of Lloyd George. The British Prime
Minister only goes to the House of Commons when he
has to make a speech or when some important question
is up for discussion. Smuts attends practically every
session of Parliament, at least he did while I was in
Capetown.

One reason was that on account of the extraordinary
position in which he found himself, any moment might
have produced a division carrying with it disastrous
results for the Government. The crisis demanded that
he remain literally on the job all the time. He left
little to his lieutenants. Confident of his ability in de¬
bate he was always willing to risk a showdown but he
had to be there when it came.

46

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

I watched him as he sat in the House. He occupied
a front bench directly opposite Hertzog and where he
could look his arch enemy squarely in the eyes all the
time. I have seen him sit like a Sphinx for an hour
without apparently moving a muscle. He has culti¬
vated that rarest of arts which is to be a good listener.
He is one of the great concentrators. In this genius, for
it is little less, lies one of the secrets of his success.
During a lull in legislative proceedings he has a habit
of taking a solitary walk out in the lobby. More than
once I saw him pacing up and down, always with an ear
cocked toward the Assembly Room so he could hear
what was going on and rush to the rescue if necessary.

In the afternoon he would sometimes go into the
members’ smoking room and drink a cup of coffee, the
popular drink in South Africa. In the old Boer house¬
hold the coffee pot is constantly boiling. With a cup
of coffee and a piece of “biltong” inside him a Boer
could fight or trek all day. Coffee bears the same rela¬
tion to the South African that tea does to the English¬
man, save that it is consumed in much larger quantities.
I might add that Smuts neither drinks liquor of any
kind nor smokes, and he eats sparingly. He admits that
his one dissipation is farming.

This comes naturally because he was born fifty years
ago on a farm in what is known as the Western Province
in the Karoo country. He did his share of the chores
about the place until it was time for him to go to school.
His father and his grandfather were farmers. Inbred
in him, as in most Boers, is an ardent love of country
life and especially an affection for the mountains. On
more than one occasion he has climbed to the top of
Table Mountain, which is no inconsiderable feat.

There are two ways of appraising Smuts. One is to

SMUTS

47

see him in action as I did at Capetown, while Parliament
was in session. The other is to get him with the back¬
ground of his farm at Irene, a little way station about
ten miles from Pretoria. Here, in a rambling one-
story house surrounded by orchards, pastures, and gar¬
dens, he lives the simple life. In the western part of the
Transvaal he owns a real farm. He showed his shrewd¬
ness in the acquisition of this property because he bought
it at a time when the region was dubbed a “desert.”
Now it is a garden spot.

Irene has various distinct advantages. For one thing
it is his permanent home. Groote Schuur is the prop¬
erty of the Government and he owes his tenancy of it
entirely to the fortunes of politics. At Irene is planted
his hearthstone and around it is mobilized his consider¬
able family. There are six little Smutses. Smuts
married the sweetheart of his youth who is a rarely
congenial helpmate. It was once said of her that she
“went about the house with a baby under one arm and a
Greek dictionary under the other.”

Most people do not realize that the Union of South
Africa has two capitals. Capetown with the House of
Parliament is the center of legislation, while Pretoria,
the ancient Kruger stronghold, with its magnificent new
Union buildings atop a commanding eminence, is the
fountain-head of administration. With Irene only ten
miles away it is easy for Smuts to live with his family
after the adjournment of Parliament, and go in to his
office at Pretoria every day.

I have already given you a hint of the Smuts personal
appearance. Let us now take a good look at him. His
forehead is lofty, his nose arched, his mouth large. You
know that his blonde beard veils a strong jaw. The eyes
are reminiscent of those marvelous orbs of Marshal

48

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

Foch only they are blue, haunting and at times inex¬
orable. Yet they can light up with humor and glow with
friendliness.

Smuts is essentially an out-of-doors person and his
body is wiry and rangy. He has the stride of a man
seasoned to the long march and who is equally at home
in the saddle. He speaks with vigour and at times not
without emotion. The Boer is not a particularly
demonstrative person and Smuts has some of the racial
reserve. His personality betokens potential strength,
— a suggestion of the unplumbed reserve that keeps
people guessing. This applies to his mental as well as
his physical capacity. Frankly cordial, he resents
familiarity. You would never think of slapping him on
the shoulder and saying, “Hello, Jan.” More than
one blithe and buoyant person has been frozen into
respectful silence in such a foolhardy undertaking.

His middle name is Christian and it does not belie
a strong phase of his character. Without carrying his
religious convictions on his coat-sleeve, he has neverthe¬
less a fine spiritual strain in his make-up. He is an
all-round dependable person, with an adaptability to
environment that is little short of amazing.

IV

NOW LET us turn to another and less conspicu¬
ous South African whose point of view, impe¬
rial, personal and patriotic, is the exact opposite
of that of Smuts. Throughout this chapter has run the
strain of Hertzog, first the Boer General fighting gal¬
lantly in the field with Smuts as youthful comrade;
then the member of the Botha Cabinet; later the bitter
insurgent, and now the implacable foe of the order that
he helped to establish. What manner of man is he and
what has he to say?

I talked to him one afternoon when he left the
floor leadership to his chief lieutenant, a son of
the late President Steyn of the Orange Free State.
Like his father, who called himself “President” to the
end of his life although his little republic had slipped
away from him, he has never really yielded to English
rule.

We adjourned to the smoking room where we had the
inevitable cup of South African coffee. I was prepared
to find a fanatic and fire-eater. Instead I faced a thin,
undersized man who looked anything but a general and
statesman. Put him against the background of a small
New England town and you would take him for an
American country lawyer. He resembles the student
more than the soldier and, like many Boers, speaks
English with a British accent. Nor is he without force.
No man con play the role that he has played in South

49

50

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

tl

Africa those past twenty-five years without having
substance in him.

When I asked him to state his case he said:

“The republican idea is as old as South Africa. There
was a republic before the British arrived. The idea came
from the American Revolution and the inspiration was
Washington. The Great Trek of 1836 was a protest
very much like the one we are making today.

“President Wilson articulated the Boer feeling with
his gospel of self-determination. He also voiced the
aspirations of Ireland, India and Egypt. It is a great
world idea — a deep moral conviction of mankind, this
right of the individual state, as of the individual for
freedom.

“Never again will Transvaal and Orange Free
State history be repeated. No matter how a nation
covets another — and I refer to British covetousness,
— if the nation coveted is able to govern itself it cannot
and must not be assimilated. It is one result of the
Great War.”

“What is the Nationalist ideal?” I asked.

“It is the right to self-rule,” replied Hertzog. “But
there must be no conflict if it can be avoided. It must
prevail by reason and education. At the present time
I admit that the majority of South Africans do not
want republicanism. The Nationalist mission today is
to keep the torch lighted.”

“How does this idea fit into the spirit of the League
of Nations?” I queried.

“It fits in perfectly,” was the response. “We Nation¬
alists favor the League as outlined by Wilson. But I
fear that it will develop into a capitalistic, imperialistic
empire dominating the world instead of a league of
nations.”

SMUTS

51

I asked Hertzog how he reconciled acquiescence to
Union to the present Nationalist revolt. The answer
was:

“The Nationalists supported the Government because
of their attachment to General Botha. Deep down in
his heart Botha wanted to be free and independent.”

“How about Ireland?” I demanded.

The General smiled as he responded: “Our position
is different. It does not require dynamite, but educa¬
tion. With us it is a simple matter of the will of the
people. I do not think that conditions in South Africa
will ever reach the state at which they have arrived in
Ireland.”

Commenting on the Union and its relations to the
British Empire Hertzog continued :

“The Union is not a failure but we could be better
governed. The thing to which we take exception is that
the British Government, through our connection with
it, is in a position by which it gets an undue advantage
directly and indirectly to influence legislation. For ex¬
ample, we were not asked to conquer German South-
West Africa; it was a command.

“Very much against the feeling of the old population,
that is the Dutch element, we were led into participation
in the war. Today this old population feels as strongly
as ever against South Africa being involved in Euro¬
pean politics. It feels that all this Empire movement
only leads in that direction and involves us in world
conflicts.

“One of the strongest reasons in favor of separation
and the setting up of a South African republic is to
get solidarity betwen the English and the Dutch. I
cannot help feeling that our interests are being con¬
stantly subordinated to those of Great Britain. My firm

52

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

conviction is that the freer we are, and the more inde¬
pendent of Great Britian we become, the more we shall
favor a close co-operation with her. We do not dislike
the British as such but we do object to the Britisher
coming out as a subject of Great Britain with a superior
manner and looking upon the Dutchman as a dependent
or a subordinate. There will be a conflict so long as
they do not recognize our heroes, traditions and history.
In short, we are determined to have a republic of South
Africa and England must recognize it. To oppose it is
fatal.”

“Will you fight for it?” I asked.

“I hardly think that it will come to force,” said the
General. “It must prevail by reason and education. It
may not come in one year but it will come before many
years.”

Hertzog’s feeling is not shared, as he intimated, by
the majority of South Africans and this includes many
Dutchmen. An illuminating analysis of the N ationalist
point of view was made for me by Sir Thomas Smartt,
the leader of the Unionist Party and a virile force in
South African politics. He brought the situation
strikingly home to America when he said :

“The whole Nationalist movement is founded on race.
Like the Old Guard, the Boer may die but it is hard for
him to surrender. His heart still rankles with the out¬
come of the Boer War. Would the American South
have responded to an appeal to arms in the common
cause made by the North in 1876? Probably not. Be¬
fore your Civil War the South only had individual
states. The Boers, on the other hand, had republics
with completely organized and independent govern¬
ments. This is why it will take a long time before com-

SMUTS 53

plete assimilation is accomplished, A second Boer War
is unthinkable.”

We can now return to Smuts and find out just how
he achieved the miracle by which he not only retained
the Premiership but spiked the guns of the opposition.

When I left Capetown he was in a corner. The
Nationalist majority not only made his position pre¬
carious but menaced the integrity of Union, and through
Union, the whole Empire. For five months, — the
whole session of Parliament, — he held his ground.
Every night when he went to bed at Groote Schuur he
did not know what disaster the morrow would bring
forth. It was a constant juggle with conflicting
interests, ambitions and prejudices. He was like a lion
with a pack snapping on all sides.

Now you can see why he sat in that front seat in the
House morning, noon and night. He placated the
Labourites, harmonized the Unionists, and flung down
the gauntlet openly to the Nationalists. Throughout
that historic session, and although much legislation was
accomplished, he did not permit the consummation of a
single decisive division. It was a triumph of parliamen¬
tary leadership.

When the session closed in July, — it is then mid¬
winter in Africa, — he was still up against it. The
Nationalist majority was a phantom that dogged his
official life and political fortunes. The problem now was
to take out sane insurance against a repetition of the
trial and uncertainty which he had undergone.

Fate in the shape of the Nationalist Party played
into his hands. Under the stimulation of the Nation¬
alists a V ereeniging Congress was called at Bloenfontein
late last September. The Dutch word V ereeniging
means “reunion.” Hertzog and Tielman Roos, the co-

54

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

leader of the secessionists, believed that by bringing the
leading representatives of the two leading parties to¬
gether the appeal to racial pride might carry the day.
Smuts did not attend but various members of his Cabinet
did.

Reunion did anything but reunite. The differences
on the republican issues being fundamental were like¬
wise irreconcilable. The Nationalists stood pat on se¬
cession while the South African Party remained loyal
to its principles of Imperial unity. The meeting ended
in a deadlock.

Smuts, a field marshal of politics, at once saw that
the hour of deliverance from his dilemma had arrived.
The Nationalists had declared themselves unalterably
for separation. He converted their battle-cry into coin
for himself. He seized the moment to issue a call for
a new Moderate Party that would represent a fusion of
the South Africanists and the Unionists. In one of his
finest documents he made a plea for the consolidation of
these constructive elements.

In it he said :

Now that the Nationalist Party is firmly resolved to continue
its propaganda of fanning the fires of secession and of driving
the European races apart from each other and ultimately into
conflict with each other, the moderate elements of our popula¬
tion have no other alternative but to draw closer to one another
in order to fight that policy.

A new appeal must, therefore, be made to all right-minded
South Africans, irrespective of party or race, to join the new
Party, which will be strong enough to safeguard the permanent
interests of the Union against the disruptive and destructive
policy of the Nationalists. Such a central political party will
not only continue our great work of the past, but is destined
to play a weighty role in the future peaceable development of
South Africa.

SMUTS

55

The end of October witnessed the ratification of this
proposal by the Unionists. The action at once consoli¬
dated the Premier’s position. I doubt if in all political
history you can uncover a series of events more paradox¬
ical or perplexing or find a solution arrived at with
greater skill and strategy. It was a revelation of Smuts
with his ripe statesmanship put to the test, and not found
wanting.

At the election held four months later Smuts scored
a brilliant triumph. The South African Party in¬
creased its representation by eighteen seats, while the
Nationalists lost heavily. The Labour Party was al¬
most lost in the wreckage. The net result was that the
Premier obtained a working majority of twenty-two,
which guarantees a stable and loyal Government for at
least five years.

It only remains to speculate on what the future holds
for this remarkable man. South Africa has a tragic
habit of prematurely destroying its big men. Rhodes
was broken on the wheel at forty-nine, and Botha suc¬
cumbed in the prime of life. Will Smuts share the same
fate?

No one need be told in the face of the Smuts per¬
formance that he is a world asset. The question is, how
far will he go? A Cabinet Minister at twenty-eight, a
General at thirty, a factor in international affairs before
he was well into the forties, he unites those rare elements
of greatness which seem to be so sparsely apportioned
these disturbing days. That he will reconstruct South
Africa there is no doubt. What larger responsibilities
may devolve upon him can only be guessed.

Just before I sailed from England I talked with a
high-placed British official. He is in the councils of

56

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

Empire and he knows Smuts and South Africa. I asked
him to indicate what in his opinion would be the next
great milepost of Smuts’ progress. He replied:

‘The destiny of Smuts is interwoven with the destiny
of the whole British Empire. The Great War bound
the Colonies together with bonds of blood. Out of this
common peril and sacrifice has been knit a closer Im¬
perial kinship. During the war we had an Imperial
War Cabinet composed of overseas Premiers, which sat
in London. Its logical successor will be a United
British Empire, federated in policy but not in adminis¬
tration. Smuts will be the Prime Minister of these
United States of Great Britian.”

It is the high goal of a high career.

C' CAMEROONS

ANGOLA El'SbeffivlW
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_ \s^lLivingstone •

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UNIOMfOF /w4“ f

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i SOUTH»!aFRICXF "<-*-/ * ^

SOUTH

WEST

AFRICA

Scale of Miles

GENERAL DRAFTING CO. I NC./N.Y.

s

NIGERIA

ABYSSINIA

<o> \ f ^.r sf-XL.Kuao

l S /& Congo /fUGANDA> A?

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DAKAR, TENERIFE \ \ \\ TERRITORY f

'&if&.iFRA.NOE‘ ”

THE HEAVY LINE INDICATES MR. MARCOSSON’S ROUTE
IN AFRICA

A

CHAPTER II — “CAPE-TO-CAIRO”

I

WHEN you take the train for the North at
Capetown you start on the first lap of what
is in many respects the most picturesque
journey n the world. Other railways tunnel mighty
mountains, cross seething rivers, traverse scorching
deserts, and invade the clouds, but none has so romantic
an interest or is bound up with such adventure and
imagination as this. The reason is that at Capetown
begins the southern end of the famous seven-thousand-
mile Cape-to-Cairo Route, one of the greatest dreams
of England’s prince of practical dreamers, Cecil Rhodes.
Today, after thirty years of conflict with grudging
Governments, the project is practically an accomplished
fact.

Woven into its fabric is the story of a German con¬
spiracy that was as definite a cause of the Great War as
the Balkan mess or any other phase of Teutonic inter¬
national meddling. Along its highway the American
mining engineer has registered a little known evidence
of his achievement abroad. The route taps civilization
and crosses the last frontiers of progress. The South
African end discloses an illuminating example of prof¬
itable nationalization. Over it still broods the person¬
ality of the man who conceived it and who left his im¬
press and his name on an empire. Attention has been
directed anew to the enterprise from the fact that shortly
before I reached Africa two aviators flew from Cairo to

57

58

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

the Cape and their actual flying time was exactly sixty-
eight hours.

The unbroken iron spine that was to link North and
South Africa and which Rhodes beheld in his vision of
the future, will probably not be built for some years.
Traffic in Central Africa at the moment does not justify
it. Besides, the navigable rivers in the Belgian Congo,
Egypt, and the Soudan lend themselves to the rail and
water route which, with one short overland gap, now
enables you to travel the whole way from Cape to Cairo.

The very inception of the Cape-to-Cairo project gives
you a glimpse of the working of the Rhodes mind. He
left the carrying out of details to subordinates. When
he looked at the map of Africa, — and he was forever
studying maps, — and ran that historic line through it
from end to end and said, “It must be all red,” he took
no cognizance of the extraordinary difficulties that lay
in the way. He saw, but he did not heed, the rainbow
of many national flags that spanned the continent. A
little thing like millions of square miles of jungle, suc¬
cessions of great lakes, or wild and primitive regions
peopled with cannibals, meant nothing. Money and
energy were to him merely means to an end.

When General “Chinese” Gordon, for example, told
him that he had refused a roomful of silver for his
services in exterminating the Mongolian bandits Rhodes
looked at him in surprise and said : “Why didn’t you take
it? What is the earthly use of having ideas if you
haven’t the money with which to carry them out?” Here
you have the keynote of the whole Rhodes business
policy. A project had to be carried through regardless
of expense. It applied to the Cape-to-Cairo dream just
as it applied to every other enterprise with which he was
associated.

“CAPE-TO-CAIRO”

59

The all-rail route would cost billions upon billions,
although now that German prestige in Africa is ended
it would not be a physical and political impossibility.
A modification of the original plan into a combination
rail and river scheme permits the consummation of the
vision of thirty years ago. The southern end is all-rail
mainly because the Union of South Africa and Rhodesia
are civilized and prosperous countries. I made the en¬
tire journey by train from Capetown to the rail-head at
Bukama in the Belgian Congo, a distance of 2,700 miles,
the longest continuous link in the whole scheme. This
trip can be made, if desirable, in a through car in about
nine days.

I then continued northward, down the Lualaba River,
— Livingstone thought it was the Nile — then by
rail, and again on the Lualaba through the posts of
Kongolo, Kindu and Ponthierville to Stanleyville on
the Congo River. This is the second stage of the Cape-
to-Cairo Route and knocks off an additional 890 miles
and another twelve days. Here I left the highway to
Egypt and went down the Congo and my actual contact
with the famous line ended. I could have gone on, how¬
ever, and reached Cairo, with luck, in less than eight
weeks.

From Stanleyville you go to Mahagi, which is on
the border beteween the Congo and Uganda. This is
the only overland gap in the whole route. It covers
roughly, — - and the name is no misnomer I am told, —
680 miles through the jungle and skirts the principal
Congo gold fields. A road has been built and motor
cars are available. The railway route from Stanleyville
to Mahagi, which will link the Congo and the Nile, is
surveyed and would have been finished by this time but
for the outbreak of the Great War. The Belgian

60

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

Minister of the Colonies, with whom I travelled in the
Congo assured me that his Government would com¬
mence the construction within the next two years, thus
enabling the traveller to forego any hiking on the long
journey.

Mahagi is on the western side of Lake Albert and is
destined to be the lake terminus of the projected Congo-
Nile Railway which will be an extension of the Soudan
Railways. Here you begin the journey that enlists
both railways and steamers and which gives practically
a straight ahead itinerary to Cairo. You journey on
the Nile by way of Rejaf, Kodok, — (the Fashoda that
was) — to Kosti, wiiere you reach the southern rail¬
head of the Soudan Railways. Thence it is compara¬
tively easy, as most travellers know, to push on through
Khartum, Berber, Wady Haifa and Assuan to the
Egyptian capital. The distance from Mahagi to Cairo
is something like 2,700 miles while the total mileage from
Capetown to Cairo, along the line that I have indicated,
is 7,000 miles.

This, in brief, is the way you make the trip that
Rhodes dreamed about, but not the way he planned it.
There are various suggestions for alternate routes after
you reach Bukama or, to be more exact, after you start
down the first stage of the journey on the Lualaba. At
Kabalo, where I stopped, a railroad runs eastward from
the river to Albertville, on the shores of Lake Tan¬
ganyika. Rhodes wanted to use the 400-mile waterway
that this body of water provides to connect the railway
that came down from the North with the line that begins
at the Cape. The idea was to employ train ferries.
King Leopold of Belgium granted Rhodes the right to
do this but Germany frustrated the scheme by refusing
to recognize the cession of the strip of Congo terri-

“CAPE-TO-CAIRO” 61

tory between Lake Tanganyika and Lake Kivu, which
was an essential link.

This incident is one evidence of the many attempts
that the Germans made to block the Cape-to-Cairo pro¬
ject. Germany knew that if Rhodes, and through
Rhodes the British Empire, could establish through
communication under the British flag, from one end
of Africa to the other, it would put a crimp into the
Teutonic scheme to dominate the whole continent. She
went to every extreme to interfere with its advance.

This German opposition provided a reason why the
consummation of the project was so long delayed.
Another was, that except for the explorer and the big
game hunter, there was no particular provocation for
moving about in certain portions of Central Africa until
recently. But Germany only afforded one obstacle.
The British Government, after the fashion of govern¬
ments, turned a cold shoulder to the enterprise. His¬
tory was only repeating itself. If Disraeli had con¬
sulted his colleagues England would never have ac¬
quired the Suez Canal. So it goes.

Most of the Rhodesian links of the Cape-to-Cairo
Route were built by Rhodes and the British South
Africa Company, while the line from Broken Hill to
the Congo border was due entirely to the courage and
tenacity of Robert Williams, who is now constructing
the so-called Renguella Railway from Lobito Bay in
Portuguese Angola to Bukama. It will be a feeder to
the Cape-to-Cairo road and constitute a sort of back
door to Egypt. It will also provide a shorter outlet
to Europe for the copper in the Katanga district of the
Congo.

When you see equatorial Africa and more especially
that part which lies between the rail-head at Bukama

62

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

and Mahagi, you understand why the all-rail route is not
profitable at the moment. It is for the most part an un¬
cultivated area principally jungle, with scattered white
settlements and hordes of untrained natives. The war
set back the development of the Congo many years.
Now that the world is beginning to understand the possi¬
bilities of Central Africa for palm oil, cotton, rubber,
and coffee, the traffic to justify the connecting railways
will eventually come.

II

SHORTLY after my return from Africa I was
talking with a well-known American business
man who, after making the usual inquiries about
lions, cannibals and hair-breadth escapes, asked: “Is it
dangerous to go about in South Africa ?” When I
assured him that both my pocket-book and I were safer
there than on Broadway in New York or State Street
in Chicago, he was surprised. Yet his question is typi¬
cal of a widespread ignorance about all Africa and even
its most developed area.

What people generally do not understand is that the
lower part of that one-time Dark Continent is one of
the most prosperous regions in the world, where the
home currency is at a premium instead of a discount;
where the high cost of living remains a stranger and
where you get little suggestion of the commercial rack
and ruin that are disturbing the rest of the universe.
While the war-ravaged nations and their neighbors are
feeling their dubious way towards economic reconstruc¬
tion, the Union of South Africa is on the wave of a
striking expansion. It affords an impressive contrast
to the demoralized productivity of Europe and for that
matter the United States.

South Africa presents many economic features of dis¬
tinct and unique interest. A glance at its steam trans¬
portation discloses rich material. Fundamentally the
railroads of any country are the real measures of its
progress. In Africa particularly they are the mileposts

63

64

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

of civilization. In 1876 there were only 400 miles on the
whole continent. Today there are over 30,000 miles.
Of this network of rails exactly 11,478 miles are in the
Union of South Africa and they comprise the second
largest mileage in the world under one management.

More than this, they are Government owned and
operated. Despite this usual handicap they pay. No
particular love of Government control, — which is in¬
variably an invitation for political influence to do its
worst, — animated the development of these railways.
As in Australia, where private capital refused to build,
it was a case of necessity. In South Africa there was
practically no private enterprise to sidestep the obliga¬
tion that the need of adequate transportation imposed.
The country was new, hostile savages still swarmed the
frontiers, and the white man had to battle with Zulu and
Kaffir for every area he opened. In the absence of
navigable rivers — there are none in the Union —
the steel rail had to do the pioneering. Besides, the
Boers had a strong prejudice against the railroads and
regarded the iron horse as a menace to their isolation.

The first steam road on the continent of Africa was
constructed by private enterprise from the suburb of
Durban in Natal into the town. It was a mile and three-
quarters in length and was opened for traffic in 1860.
Railway construction in the Cape Colony began about
the same time. The Government ownership of the lines
was inaugurated in 1873 and it has continued without
interruption ever since. The real epoch of railway
building in South Africa started with the great mineral
discoveries. First came the uncovering of diamonds
along the Orange River and the opening up of the
Kimberley region, which added nearly 2,000 miles of
railway. With the finding of gold in the Rand on what

“CAPE-TO-CAIRO” 65

became the site of Johannesburg, another 1,500 miles
were added.

Since most nationalized railways do not pay it is
interesting to take a look at the African balance sheet.
Almost without exception the South African railways
have been operated at a considerable net profit. These
profits some years have been as high as £2,590,917.
During the war, when there was a natural slump in
traffic and when all soldiers and Government supplies
were carried free of cost, they aggregated in 1915, for
instance, £749,125.

One fiscal feature of these South African railroads
is worth emphasizing. Under the act of Union “all
profits, after providing for interest, depreciation and
betterment, shall be utilized in the reduction of tariffs,
due regard being had to the agricultural and industrial
development within the Union and the promotion by
means of cheap transport of the settlement of an agri¬
cultural population in the inland portions of the Union.”
The result is that the rates on agricultural products,
low-grade ores, and certain raw materials are possibly
the lowest in the world. In other countries rates had
to be increased during the war but in South Africa no
change was made, so as not to interfere with the agri¬
cultural, mineral and industrial development of the
country.

Nor is the Union behind in up-to-date transportation.
A big program for electrification has been blocked out
and a section is under conversion. Some of the power
generated will be sold to the small manufacturer and
thus production will be increased.

Stimulating the railway system of South Africa is a
single personality which resembles the self-made Ameri¬
can wizard of transportation more than any other

66

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

Britisher that I have met with the possible exception of
Sir Eric Geddes, at present Minister of Transport of
Great Britain and who left his impress on England’s
conduct of the war. He is Sir William W. Hoy, whose
official title is General Manager of the South African
Railways and Ports. Big, vigorous, and forward-look¬
ing, he sits in a small office in the Railway Station at
Capetown, with his finger literally on the pulse of
nearly 12,000 miles of traffic. During the war Walker
D. Hines, as Director General of the American Rail¬
ways, was steward of a vaster network of rails but his
job was an emergency one and terminated when that
emergency subsided. Sir William Hoy, on the other
hand, is set to a task which is not equalled in extent,
scope or responsibility by any other similar official.

Like James J. Hill and Daniel Willard he rose from
the ranks. At Capetown he told me of his great admira¬
tion for American railways and their influence in the
system he dominates. Among other things he said:
“We are taking our whole cue for electrification from
the railroads of your country and more especially the
admirable precedent established by the Chicago, Mil¬
waukee & St. Paul Railway. I believe firmly in wide
electrification of present-day steam transport. The
great practical advantages are more uniform speed and
the elimination of stops to take water. It also affords
improved acceleration, greater reliability as to timing,
especially on heavy grades, and stricter adherence to
schedule. There are enormous advantages to single lines
like ours in South Africa. Likewise, crossings and train
movements can be arranged with greater accuracy,
thereby reducing delays. Perhaps the greatest saving
is in haulage, that is, in the employment of the heavy
electric locomotive. It all tends toward a denser traffic.

“CAPE-TO-CAIRO”

67

“Behind this whole process of electrification lies the
need, created by the Great War, for coal conservation
and for a motive power that will speed up production of
all kinds. We have abundant coal in the Union of
South Africa and by consuming less of it on our rail¬
ways we will be in a stronger position to export it and
thus strengthen our international position and keep the
value of our money up.”

Since Sir William has touched upon the coal supply
we at once get a link, — and a typical one — with the
ramified resource of the Union of South Africa. No
product, not even those precious stones that lie in the
bosom of Kimberley, or the glittering golden ore im¬
bedded in the Rand, has a larger political or economic
significance just now. Nor does any commodity figure
quite so prominently in the march of world events.

In peace, as in war, coal spells life and power. It
was the cudgel that the one-time proud and arrogant
Germany held menacingly over the head of the unhappy
neutral, and extorted special privilege. At the moment
I write, coal is the storm center of controversy that
ranges from the Ruhr Valley of Germany to the Welsh
fields of Britain and affects the destinies of statesmen
and of countries. We are not without fuel troubles, as
our empty bins indicate. The nation, therefore, with
cheap and abundant coal has a bargaining asset that
insures industrial peace at home and trade prestige
abroad.

South Africa not only has a low-priced and ample
coal supply but it is in a convenient point for distribu¬
tion to the whole Southern hemisphere, — in fact
Europe and other sections. On past production the
Union ranked only eleventh in a list of coal-producing
countries, the output being about 8,000,000 tons a year

08

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

before the war and something over 10,000,000 tons in
1919. This output, however, is no guide to the magni¬
tude of its fields. Until comparatively recent times they
have been little exploited, not because of inferiority
but because of the restricted output prior to the new
movement to develop a bunker and export trade. With¬
out an adequate geological survey the investigations
made during the last twelve months indicate a potential
supply of over 60,000,000 tons and immense areas have
not been touched at all.

The war changed the whole coal situation. Labour
conflicts have reduced the British output; a huge part
of Germany’s supply must go to France as an indem¬
nity, while our own fields are sadly under-worked, for a
variety of causes. All these conditions operate in favor
of the South African field, which is becoming increas¬
ingly important as a source of supply.

Despite her advantage the prices remain astonish¬
ingly low, when you compare them with those prevail¬
ing elsewhere. English coal, which in 1912 cost about
nine shillings a ton at pithead, costs considerably more
than thirty shillings today. The average pithead price
of South African coal in 1915 was five shillings two¬
pence a ton and at the time of my visit to South Africa
in 1919 was still under seven shillings a ton. Capetown
and Durban, the two principal harbours of the Union,
are coaling stations of Empire importance. There you
can see the flags of a dozen nations flying from ships
that have put in for fuel. Thanks to the war these
ports are in the center of the world’s great trade routes
and thus, geographically and economically their posi¬
tion is unique for bunkering and for export.

The price of bunker coal is a key to the increased
overhead cost of world trade, as a result of the war. The

“CAPE-TO-CAIRO”

69

Belgian boat on which I travelled from the shores of the
Congo to Antwerp coaled at Teneriffe, where the price
per ton was seven pounds. It is interesting to compare
this with the bunker price at Capetown of a little more
than two pounds per ton, or at Durban where the rate
is one pound ten shillings a ton. In the face of these
figures you can readily see what an economic advantage
is accruing to the Union of South Africa with reference
to the whole vexing question of coal supply.

We can now go into the larger matter of South
Africa’s business situation in the light of peace and world
reconstruction. I have already shown how the war,
and the social and industrial upheaval that followed in
its wake have enlarged and fortified the coal situation
in the Union. Practically all other interests are simi¬
larly affected. The outstanding factor in the prosperity
of the Union has been the development of war-born
self-sufficiency. I used to think during the conflict
that shook the world, that this gospel of self -contain¬
ment would be one of the compensations that Britain
would gain for the years of blood and slaughter. So far
as Britain is concerned this hope has not been realized.
When I was last in England huge quantities of Ger¬
man dyes were being dumped on her shores to the loss
and dismay of a new coal-tar industry that had been
developed during the war. German wares like toys
and novelties were now pouring in. And yet England
wondered why her exchange was down !

In South Africa the situation has been entirely dif¬
ferent. She alone of all the British dominions is assert¬
ing an almost pugnacious self-sufficiency. Cut off from
outside supplies for over four years by the relentless
submarine warfare, and the additional fact that nearly
all the ships to and from the Cape had to carry war

70

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

supplies or essential products, she was forced to develop
her internal resources. The consequence is an expan¬
sion of agriculture, industry and manufactures. In¬
stead of being as she was often called, “a country of
samples,” she has become a domain of active produc¬
tion, as is attested by an industrial output valued at
<£62,000,000 in 1918. Before the war the British and
American manufacturer, — and there is a considerable
market for American goods in the Cape Colony, —
could undersell the South African article. That condi¬
tion is changed and the home-made article produced
with much cheaper labour than obtains either in Europe
or the United States, has the field.

Let me emphasize another striking fact in connection
with this South African prosperity. During the war
I had occasion to observe at first-hand the economic
conditions in every neutral country in Europe. I was
deeply impressed with the prosperity of Sweden, Spain
and Switzerland, and to a lesser extent Holland, who
made hay while their neighbors reaped the tares of
war. Japan did likewise. These nations were largely
profiteers who capitalized a colossal misfortune. They
got much of the benefit and little of the horror of the
upheaval.

Not so with South Africa. She played an active
part in the war and at the same time brought about a
legitimate expansion of her resources. One point in
her favor is that while she sent tens of thousands of her
sons to fight, her own territory escaped the scar and
ravage of battle. All the fighting in Africa, so far
as the Union was concerned, was in German South-
West Africa and German East Africa. After my years
in tempest-tossed Europe it was a pleasant change to
catch the buoyant, confident, unwearied spirit of South
Africa.

“CAPE-TO-CAIRO”

71

I have dwelt upon coal because it happens to be a
significant economic asset. Coal is merely a phase of
the South African resources. In 1919 the Union
produced £35,000,000 in gold and <£7,200,000 in dia¬
monds. The total mining production was, roughly,
£50,000,000. This mining treasure is surpassed by the
agricultural output, of which nearly one-third is ex¬
ported. Land is the real measure of permanent wealth.
The hoard of gold and diamonds in time becomes ex¬
hausted but the soil and its fruits go on forever.

The moment you touch South African agriculture you
reach a real romance. 1ST owhere, not even in the winning
of the American West by the Mormons, do you get a
more dramatic spectacle of the triumph of the pioneer
over combative conditions. The Mormons made the
Utah desert bloom, and the Boers and their British col¬
leagues wrested riches from the bare veldt. The Mor¬
mons fought Indians and wrestled with drought, while
the Dutch in Africa and their English comrades battled
with Kaffirs, Hottentots and Zulus and endured a no
less grilling exposure to sun.

The crops are diversified. One of the staples of South
Africa, for example, is the mealie, which is nothing
more or less than our own American corn, but not quite
so good. It provides the principal food of the natives
and is eaten extensively by the European as well. On
a dish of mealie porridge the Kaffir can keep the human
machine going for twenty-four hours. Its prototype in
the Congo is manice flour. In the Union nearly five
million acres are under maize cultivation, which is
exactly double the area in 1911. The value of the
maize crop last year was approximately a million six
hundred thousand pounds. Similar expansion has been
the order in tobacco, wheat, fruit, sugar and half a
dozen other products.

72

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

South Africa is a huge cattle country. The Boers
have always excelled in the care of live stock and it is
particularly due to their efforts that the Union today
has more than seven million head of cattle, which repre¬
sents another hundred per cent increase in less than ten
years.

This matter of live stock leads me to one of the really
picturesque industries of the Union which is the breed¬
ing of ostriches, “the birds with the golden feathers.”
Ask any man who raises these ungainly birds and he will
tell you that with luck they are far better than the pro¬
verbial goose who laid the eighteen-karat eggs. The
combination of F’s — femininity, fashion and feathers
— has been productive of many fortunes. The busi¬
ness is inclined to be fickle because it depends upon the
female temperament. The ostrich feather, however, is
always more or less in fashion. With the outbreak of
the war there was a tremendous slump in feathers,
’which was keenly felt in South Africa. With peace,
the plume again became the thing and the drooping
industry expanded with get-rich-quick proportions.

Port Elizabeth in the Cape Colony is the center of
the ostrich feather trade. It is the only place in the
world, I believe, devoted entirely to plumage. Not long
before I arrived in South Africa £85,000 of feathers
were disposed of there in three days. It no uncommon
thing for a pound of prime plumes to fetch £100. The
demand has become so keen that 350,000 ostriches in
the Union can scarcely keep pace with it. Before the
war there were more than 800,000 of these birds but the
depression in feathers coupled with drought, flood and
other causes, thinned out the ranks. It takes three
years for an ostrich chick to become a feather producer.

America has a considerable part in shaping the

“CAPE-TO-CAIRO”

73

ostrich feather market. As with diamonds, we are the
largest consumers. You can go to Port Elizabeth any
day and find a group of Yankees industriously bidding
against each other. On one occasion two New York
buyers started a competition that led to an eleven weeks
orgy that registered a total net sale of more than
£100,000 of feathers. They are still talking about it
down there.

South Africa has not only expanded in output but
her area is also enlarged. The Peace Conference gave
her the mandate for German South-West Africa, which
was the first section of the vanished Teutonic Empire in
Africa. It occupies more than a quarter or the whole
area of the continent south of the Zambesi River. While
the word “mandate” as construed by the peace sharks at
Paris is supposed to mean the amiable stewardship of
a country, it really amounts to nothing more or less than
an actual and benevolent assimilation. This assimila¬
tion is very much like the paternal interest that holding
companies in the good old Wall Street days felt for
small and competitive concerns. In other words, it is
safe to assume that henceforth German South-West
Africa will be a permanent part of the Union.

The Colony’s chief asset is comprised in the so-called
German South-West African Diamond Fields, which,
with the Congo Diamond Fields, provide a considerable
portion of the small stones now on the market. These
two fields are alike in that they are alluvial which means
that the diamonds are easily gathered by a washing
process. No shafts are sunk. It is precisely like gold
washing.

The German South-West mines have an American
interest. In the reoganization following the conquest
of German South-West Africa by the South African

74

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

Army under General Botha the control had to become
Anglo-Saxon. The Anglo-American Corporation
which has extensive interests in South Africa and which
is financed by London and New York capitalists, the
latter including J. P. Morgan, Charles H. Sabin and
W. B. Thompson, acquired these fields. It is an inter¬
esting commentary on post-war business readjustment
to discover that there is still a German interest in these
mines. It makes one wonder if the German will ever
be eradicated from his world-wide contact with every
point of commercial activity.

It is not surprising, therefore, that South Africa, in
the light of all the facts that I have enumerated, should
be prosperous. Take the money, always a test of na¬
tional economic health. At Capetown I used the first
golden sovereign that I had seen since early in 1914.
This was not only because the Union happens to be a
great gold-producing country but because she has an
excess of exports over imports. Her money, despite
its intimate relation with that of Great Britain, which
has so sadly depreciated, is at a premium.

I got expensive evidence of this when I went to the
bank at Capetown to get some cash. I had a letter of
credit in terms of English pounds. To my surprise, I
only got seventeen shillings and sixpence in African
money for every English pound, which is nominally
worth twenty shillings. Six months after I left, this
penalty had increased to three shillings. To such an
extent has the proud English pound sterling declined
and in a British dominion too!

South Africa has put an embargo on the export of
sovereigns. One reason was that during the first three
years of the war a steady stream of these golden coins
went surreptitiously to East India, where an unusually

“CAPE~TO-CAIRO’9

75

high premium for gold rules, especially in the bazaars.
The goldsmiths find difficulty in getting material. The
inevitable smuggling has resulted. In order to put a
check on illicit removal, all passengers now leaving the
Union are searched before they board their ships. Nor
is it a half-hearted procedure. It is as drastic as the
war-time scrutiny on frontiers.

To sum up the whole business situation in the Union
of South Africa is to find that the spirit of production,
— the most sorely needed thing in the world today —
is that of persistent advance. I dwell on this because
it is in such sharp contrast with what is going on
throughout the rest of a universe that staggers under
sloth, and where the will -to- work has almost become a
lost art. That older and more complacent order which
is represented for example by France, Italy and Eng¬
land may well seek inspiration from this South African
beehive.

Ill

"WITT’ITH this economic setting for the whole
m/%/ African picture and a visualization

V ▼ of the Cape-to-Cairo Route let us start on
the long journey that eventually took me to the heart
of equatorial Africa. The immediate objectives, so far
as this chapter is concerned, are Kimberley, Johannes¬
burg and Pretoria, names and towns that are synony¬
mous with thrilling chapters in the development of
Africa and more especially the Union.

You depart from Capetown in the morning and for
hours you remain in the friendly company of the moun¬
tains. Table Mountain has hovered over you during the
whole stay at the capital and you regretfully watch this
“Gray Father” fade away in the distance. In the even¬
ing you pass through the Hex River country where the
canyon is reminiscent of Colorado. Soon there bursts
upon you the famous Karoo country, so familiar to all
readers of South African novels and more especially
those of Olive Schreiner, Richard Dehan and Sir
Percy Fitz Patrick. It is an almost treeless plain
dotted here and there with Boer homesteads. Their
isolation suggests battle with element and soil. The
country immediately around Capetown is a paradise
of fruit and flowers, but as you travel northward the
whole character changes. There is less green and more

76

Photograph Copyright by W. 6* D. Downey

CECIL RHODES

■

y

“CAPE-TO-CAIRO”

77

brown. After the Karoo comes the equally famous
veldt, studded with the kopjes that became a part of the
world vocabulary with the Boer War. Behind these
low, long hills, — they suggest flat, rocky hummocks —
the South African burghers made many a desperate
stand against the English.

When you see the kopjes you can readily understand
why it took so long to conquer the Boers. The Dutch
knew every inch of the land and every man was a crack
shot from boyhood. In these hills a handful could hold
a small army at bay. All through this region you en¬
counter places that have become part of history. You
pass the ruins of Kitchener’s blockhouses, — they really
ended the Boer War — and almost before you realize
it, you cross the Modder River, where British military
prestige got a bloody repulse. Instinctively there come
to mind the struggles of Cronje, DeWet, Joubert, and
the rest of those Boer leaders who made this region a
small Valhalla.

Late in the afternoon of the second day you suddenly
get a “feel” of industry. The veldt becomes populated
and before long huge smokestacks loom against the
sky. You are at Kimberly. The average man associates
this place with a famous siege in the Boer War and the
equally famous diamond mines. But it is much more
for it is packed with romance and reality. Here came
Cecil Rhodes in his early manhood and pulled off the
biggest business deal of his life; here you find the first
milepost that the American mining engineer set up in
the mineral development of Africa: here is produced
in greater quantities than in any other place in the world
the glittering jewel that vanity and avarice set their
heart upon.

Kimberley is one of the most unique of all the treas-

78

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

ure cities. It is practically built on a diamond mine in
the same way that Johannesburg rests upon a gold
excavation. When the great diamond rush of the
seventies overwhelmed the Vaal and Orange River re¬
gions, what is now the Kimberley section was a rocky
plain with a few Boer farms. The influx of fortune-
hunters dotted the area with tents and diggings. Today
a thriving city covers it and the wealth produced — the
diamond output is ninety per cent of the world supply
— exceeds in value that of a big manufacturing com¬
munity in the United States.

At Kimberley you touch the intimate life of Rhodes.
He arrived in 1872 from Natal, where he had gone to
retrieve his health on a farm. The moment he staked
out a claim he began a remarkable career. In his early
Kimberley days he did a characteristic thing. He left
his claims each year to attend lectures at Oxford where
he got his degree in 1881, after almost continuous com¬
muting between England and Africa. Hence the
Rhodes Scholarship at Oxford created by his remarkable
will. History contains no more striking contrast per¬
haps than the spectacle of this tall, curly-haired boy with
the Caesar-like face studying a Greek book while he
managed a diamond- washing machine with his foot.

Rhodes developed the mines known as the DeBeers
group. His great rival was Barney Bamato, who gave
African finance the same erratic and picturesque tradi¬
tion that the Pittsburgh millionaires brought to Ameri¬
can finance. His real name was Barnett Isaacs. After
kicking about the streets of the East End of London
he became a music hall performer under the name by
which he is known to business history. The diamond
rush lured him to Kimberley, where he displayed the
resource and ingenuity that led to his organization of

“CAPE-TO-CAIRO”

79

the Central mine interests which grouped around the
Kimberley Mine.

A bitter competition developed between the Rhodes
and Barnato groups. Kimberley alternated between
boom and bankruptcy. The genius of diamond mining
lies in tempering output to demand. Rhodes realized
that indiscriminate production would ruin the market,
so he framed up the deal that made him the diamond
dictator. He made Barnato an offer which was refused.
With the aid of the Rothschilds in London Rhodes
secretly bought out the French interests in the Barnato
holdings for $6,000,000, which got his foot, so to speak,
in the doorway of the opposition. But even this did not
give him a working wedge. He was angling with other
big stockholders and required some weeks time to con¬
summate the deal. Meanwhile Barnato accumulated an
immense stock of diamonds which he threatened to dump
on the market and demoralize the price. The release of
these stones before the completion of Rhodes’ nego¬
tiations would have upset his whole scheme and neutral¬
ized his work and expense.

He arranged a meeting with Barnato who confronted
him with the pile of diamonds that he was about to
throw on the market. Rhodes, so the story goes, took
him by the arm and said: “Barney, have you ever seen
a bucketful of diamonds? I never have. I’ll make a
proposition to you. If these diamonds will fill a bucket,
I’ll take them all from you at your own price.”

Without giving his rival time to answer, Rhodes swept
the glittering fortune into a bucket which happened to
be standing nearby. It also happened that the stones
did not fill it. This incident shows the extent of the
Rhodes resource, for a man at Kimberly told me that
Rhodes knew beforehand exactly how many diamonds

80

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

Barnato had and got the right sized bucket. Rhodes
immediately strode from the room, got the time he
wanted and consummated the consolidation which made
the name DeBeers synonymous with the diamond out¬
put of the world. One trifling feature of this deal was
the check for $26,000,000 which Rhodes gave for some
of the Barnato interests acquired.

The deal with Barnato illustrated the practical oper¬
ation of one of the rules which guided Rhodes’ business
life. He once said, ‘Never fight with a man if you can
deal with him.” He lived up to this maxim even with
the savage Matabeles from whom he wrested Rhodesia.

Not long after the organization of the diamond trust
Rhodes gave another evidence of his business acumen.
He saw that the disorganized marketing of the out¬
put would lead to instability of price. He therefore
formed the Diamond Syndicate in London, composed
of a small group of middlemen who distribute the whole
Kimberley output. In this way the available supply is
measured solely by the demand.

Rhodes had a peculiar affection for Kimberley. One
reason perhaps was that it represented the cornerstone
of his fortune. He always referred to the mines as
his “bread and cheese.” He made and lost vast sums
elsewhere and scattered his money about with a lavish
hand. The diamond mines did not belie their name and
gave him a constant meal-ticket.

In Kimberley he made some of the friendships that
influenced his life. First and foremost among them was
his association with Doctor, afterwards Sir, Starr
Jameson, the hero of the famous Raid and a romantic
character in African annals. J ameson came to Kimber¬
ley to practice medicine in 1878. No less intimate was
Rhodes’ life-long attachment for Alfred Beit, who ar-

“CAPE~TO~CAXRO”

81

rived at the diamond fields from Hamburg in 1875 as an
obscure buyer. He became a magnate whose opera¬
tions extended to three continents. Beit was the balance
wheel in the Rhodes financial machine.

The diamond mines at Kimberley are familiar to
most readers. They differ from the mines in German
South-West Africa and the Congo in that they are
deep level excavations. The Kimberley mine, for ex¬
ample, goes down 3,000 feet. To see this almost gro¬
tesque gash in the earth is to get the impression of a
very small Grand Canyon of the Colorado. It is an
awesome and terrifying spectacle for it is shot through
with green and brown and purple, is more than a thou¬
sand feet wide at the top, and converges to a visible
point a thousand feet below. You feel that out of this
color and depth has emerged something that itself in¬
carnates lure and mystery. Even in its source the dia¬
mond is not without its element of elusiveness.

The diamonds at Kimberley are found in a blue earth,
technically known as kimberlite and commonly called
“blue ground.” This is exposed to sun and rain for
six months, after which it is shaken down, run over a
grease table where the vaseline catches the real dia¬
monds, and allows the other matter to escape. After
a boiling process it is the “rough” diamond.

I spent a day in the Dutoitspan Mine where I saw
thousands of Kaffirs digging away at the precious blue
substance soon to be translated into the gleaming stone
that would dangle on the bosom or shine from the finger
of some woman ten thousand miles away. I got an evi¬
dence of American cinema enterprise on this occasion
for I suddenly debouched on a wide level and under
the flickering lights I saw a Yankee operator turning
the crank of a motion picture camera. He was part of

82

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

a movie outfit getting travel pictures. A hundred naked
Zulus stared with open-eyed wonder at the performance.
When the flashlight was touched off they ran for their
lives.

This leads me to the conspicuous part that Ameri¬
cans have played at Kimberley. Rhodes had great con¬
fidence in the Americans, and employed them in
various capacities that ranged from introducing Cal¬
ifornia fruits into South Africa and Rhodesia to han¬
dling his most important mining interests. When some¬
one asked him why he engaged so many he answered,
“They are so thorough.’’

First among the Americans that Rhodes brought to
Kimberley was Gardner F. Williams, a Michigander
who became General Manager of the DeBeers Company
in 1887 and upon the consolidation, assumed the same
post with the united interests. He developed the
mechanical side of diamond production and for many
years held what was perhaps the most conspicuous tech¬
nical and administrative post in the industry. He re¬
tired in favor of his son, Alpheus Williams, who is the
present General Manager of all the diamond mines at
Kimberley.

A little-known American had a vital part in the
siege of Kimberley. Among the American engineers
who rallied round Gardner Williams was George
Labram. When the Boers invested the town they had
the great advantage of speriority in weight of metal.
Thanks to Britain’s lack of preparedness, Kimberley
only had a few seven pounders, while the Boers had
“Long Toms” that hurled hundred pounders. At
Rhodes’ suggestion Labram manufactured a big gun
capable of throwing a thirty-pound shell and it gave the
besiegers a big and destructive surprise. This gun, which

“CAPE-TO-CAIRO”

83

was called “Long Cecil,” was built and booming in ex¬
actly twenty-eight days. Tragically enough, Labram
was killed by a Boer shell while shaving in his room
at the Grand Hotel exactly a week after the first dis¬
charge of his gun.

IV

THE PART that Americans had in the develop¬
ment of Kimberley is slight compared with
their participation in the exploitation of the
Rand gold mines. Not only were they the real pioneers
in opening up this greatest of all gold fields but they
loomed large in the drama of the Jameson Raid. One
of their number, John Hays Hammond, the best-known
of the group, was sentenced to death for his role in it.
The entire technical fabric of the Rand was devised
and established by men born, and who had the greater
part of their experience, in the United States.

The capital of the Rand is Johannesburg. When
you ride in a taxicab down its broad, well-paved streets
or are whirled to the top floor of one of its skyscrapers,
it is difficult to believe that thirty years ago this thriv¬
ing and metropolitan community was a rocky waste. We
are accustomed to swift civic transformations in Amer¬
ica but Johannesburg surpasses any exhibit that we can
offer in this line. Once called “a tin town with a gold
cellar,” it has the atmosphere of a continuous cabaret
with a jazz band going all the time.

No thoroughly acclimated person would ever think
of calling Johannesburg by its full and proper name.
Just as San Francisco is contracted into “ ’Frisco,” so
is this animated joy town called “Joburg.” I made the
mistake of dignifying the place with its geographical

84

“CAPE-TO-CAIRO”

85

title when I innocently remarked, “Johannesburg is a
live place.” My companion looked at me with pity —
it was almost sorrow, and replied,

“We think that ‘Joburg’ (strong emphasis on ‘Jo-
burg’) is one of the hottest places in the world.”

The word Rand is Dutch for ridge or reef. Toward
the middle of the eighties the first mine was discovered
on what is the present site of Johannesburg. The origi¬
nal excavation was on the historic place known as
Witwatersrand , which means White Water Reef. Kim¬
berley history repeated itself for the gold rush to the
Transvaal was as noisy and picturesque as the dash
on the diamond fields. It exceeded the Klondike move¬
ment because for one thing it was more accessible and
in the second place there were no really adverse cli¬
matic conditions. Thousands died in the snow and ice
of the Yukon trail while only a few hundred succumbed
to fever, exposure to rain, and inadequate food on the
Rand. It resembled the gold rush to California in 1849
more than any other similar event.

The Rand gold fields, which in 1920 produced half
of the world’s gold, are embodied in a reef about fifty
miles long and twenty miles wide. All the mines im¬
mediately in and about Johannesburg are practically
exhausted. The large development today is in the east¬
ern section. People do everything but eat gold; in
Johannesburg. Cooks, maids, waiters, bootblacks —
indeed the whole population — are interested, or at some
time have had an interest in a gold mine. Some his¬
toric shoestrings have become golden cables. J. B.
Robinson, for example, one of the well-known magnates,
and his associates converted an original interest of
£12,000 into £18,000,000. This Rand history sounds
like an Aladdin fairy tale.

86

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

What concerns us principally, however, is the Ameri¬
can end of the whole show. Hardly were the first Rand
mines uncovered than they felt the influence of the
American technical touch. Among the first of our
engineers to go out were three unusual men, Hennen
Jennings, H. C. Perkins and Captain Thomas Mein.
Together with Hamilton Smith, another noted Ameri¬
can engineer who joined them later, they had all worked
in the famous El Callao gold mine in Venezuela. Subse¬
quently came John Hays Hammond, Charles Butters,
Victor M. Clement, J. S. Curtis, T. H. Leggett, Pope
Yeatman, Fred Heilman, George Webber, H. H.
Webb, and Louis Seymour. These men were the big
fellows. They marshalled hundreds of subordinate en¬
gineers, mechanics, electricians, mine managers and
others until there were more than a thousand in the
field.

This was the group contemporaneous and identified
with the Jameson Raid. After the Boer War came
what might be called the second generation of American
engineers, which included Sidney Jennings, a brother
of Hennen, W. L. Honnold, Samuel Thomson, Ruel
C. Warriner, W. W. Mein, the son of Capt. Thomas
Mein, and H. C. Behr.

Why this American invasion? The reason was
simple. The American mining engineer of the eighties
and the nineties stood in a class by himself. Through
the gold development of California we were the only
people who had produced gold mining engineers of large
and varied practical experience. When Rhodes and
Barnato (they were both among the early nine mine-
owners in the Rand) cast about for capable men they
naturally picked out Americans. Hammond, for ex¬
ample, was brought to South America in 1893 by Bar-

“CAPE-TQ-CAIRO”

87

nato and after six months with him went over to Rhodes,
with whom he was associated both in the Rand and
Rhodesia until 1900.

Not only did Americans create the whole technical
machine but one of them — Hennen Jennings — really
saved the field. The first mines were “outcrop,” that
is, the ore literally cropped out at the surface. This out¬
crop is oxidized, and being free, is easily amalgamated
with mercury. Deeper down in the earth comes the un¬
oxidized zone which continues indefinitely. The iron
pyrites found here are not oxidized. They hold the
gold so tenaciously that they are not amalgamable.
They must therefore be abstracted by some other process
than with mercury. At the time that the outcrop in
the Rand become exhausted, what is today known as
the “cyanide process” had never been used in that part
of the world. The mine-owners became discouraged
and a slump followed. Jennings had heard of the
cyanide operation, insisted upon its introduction, and
it not only retrieved the situation but has become an
accepted adjunct of gold mining the world over. In
the same way Hammond inaugurated deep-level mining
when many of the owners thought the field was ex¬
hausted because the outcrop indications had disap¬
peared.

These Americans in the Rand made the mines and
they also made history as their part in the Jameson
Raid showed. Perhaps a word about the Reform move¬
ment which ended in the Raid is permissible here. It
grew out of the oppression of the Uitlander — the alien
— by the Transvaal Government animated by Kruger,
the President. Although these outsiders, principally
English and Americans, outnumbered the Boers three
to one, they were deprived of the rights of citizenship.

88

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

The Reformers organized an armed campaign to cap¬
ture Kruger and hold him as a hostage until they could
obtain their rights. The guns and ammunition were
smuggled in from Kimberley as “hardware” under the
supervision of Gardner Williams. It was easy to bring
the munitions as far as Kimberley. The Boers set up
such a careful watch on the Transvaal border, how¬
ever, that every subterfuge had to be employed to get
them across.

Dr. Jameson, who at that time was Administrator of
Southern Rhodesia, had a force of Rhodesian police on
the Transvaal border ready to come to the assistance
of the Committee if necessary. The understanding was
that Jameson should not invade the Transvaal until he
was needed. His impetuosity spoiled the scheme. In¬
stead of waiting until the Committee was properly
armed and had seized Kruger, he suddenly crossed the
border with his forces. The Raid was a fizzle and the
commander and all his men were captured by the Boers.
This abortive attempt was the real prelude to the Boer
War, which came four years later.

Most Americans who have read about this episode
believe that John Hays Hammond was the only coun¬
tryman of theirs in it. This was because he had a leading
and spectacular part and was one of the four ringlead¬
ers sentenced to death. He afterwards escaped by the
payment of a fine of $125,000. As a matter of fact,
four other prominent American mining engineers were
up to their necks in the reform movement and got long
terms in prison. They were Capt. Thomas Mein, J. S.
Curtis, Victor M. Clement and Charles Butters. They
obtained their freedom by the payment of fines of
$10,000 each. This whole enterprise netted Kruger
something like $2,000,000 in cash.

“CAPE-TO-CAIRO”

89

The Jameson Raid did more than enrich old Kruger’s
coffers and bring the American engineers in the Rand
to the fore. Indirectly it blocked a German scheme
that might have played havoc in Africa the moment
the inevitable Great War broke. If the Boer War had
not developed in 1899 it is altogether likely that, judg¬
ing from her whole campaign of world-wide interfer¬
ence, Germany would have arranged so that it should
break out in 1914. In this unhappy event she could
have struck a death blow at England in South Africa
because in the years between the Boer War and 1914
she created close-knit colonial organizations in South-
West and Eeast Africa; built stragetic railways; armed
and drilled thousands of natives, and could have in¬
vaded the Cape Colony and the Transvaal.

In connection with the Jameson Raid is a story not
without interest. Jameson and Rudyard Kipling hap¬
pened to be together when the news of Roosevelt’s coup
in Panama was published. The author read it first and
handed the paper to his friend with the question : “What
do you think of it?”

Jameson glanced at the article and then replied
somewhat sadly, “This makes the Raid look like thirty
cents.”

I cannot leave the Rand section of the Union of
South Africa without a word in passing about Pretoria,
the administrative capital, which is only an hour’s jour¬
ney from Johannesburg. Here you still see the old house
where Kruger lived. It was the throne of a copper-
riveted autocracy. No modern head of a country ever
wielded such a despotic rule as this psalm-singing old
Boer whose favorite hour for receiving visitors was at
five o’clock in the morning, when he had his first cup

90

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

of strong coffee, a beverage which he continued to con¬
sume throughout the day.

The most striking feature of the country around
Pretoria is the Premier diamond mine, twenty-five miles
east of the town and the world’s greatest single treasure-
trove. The mines at Kimberley together constitute the
largest of all diamond fields but the Premier Mine is
the biggest single mine anywhere. It produces as much
as the four largest Kimberley mines combined, and
contributes eighteen per cent of the yearly output
allotted to the Diamond Syndicate.

It was discovered by Thomas M. Cullinan, who
bought the site from a Boer farmer for $250,000. The
land originally cost this farmer $2,500. The mine has
already produced more than five hundred times what
Cullinan paid for it and the surface has scarcely been
scraped. You can see the natives working in its two
huge holes which are not more than six hundred feet
deep. It is still an open mine. In the Premier Mine
was found the Cullinan diamond, the largest ever dis¬
covered and which made the Koh-i-noor and all other
fabled gems look like small pebbles. It weighed 3,200
karats and was insured for $2,500,000 when it was sent
to England to be presented to King Edward. The
Koh-i-noor, by the way, which was found in India only
weighs 186 karats.

THE PREMIER DIAMOND MINE

y

NO ATTEMPT at an analysis of South Africa
would be complete without some reference to
the native problem, the one discordant note in
the economic and productive scheme. The race question,
as the Smuts dilemma showed, lies at the root of all
South African trouble. But the racial conflict between
Briton and Boer is almost entirely political and in no
way threatens the commercial integrity. Both the
Dutchman and the Englishman agree on the whole
larger proposition and the necessity of settling once
and for all a trouble that carries with it the danger of
sporadic outbreak or worse. Now we come to the whole
irritating labor trouble which has neither color, caste,
nor creed, or geographical line.

First let me bring the South African color problem
home to America. In the United States the whites out¬
number the blacks roughly ten to one. Our coloured
population represents the evolution of the one-time Afri¬
can slave through various generations into a peaceful,
law-abiding, and useful social unit. The Southern “out¬
rage” is the rare exception. We have produced a Fred¬
erick Douglass and a Booker Washington. Our Negro
is a Christian, fills high posts, and invades the pro¬
fessions.

In South Africa the reverse is true. To begin with,
the natives outnumber the whites four and one-half to

91

92

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

one - — in Rhodesia they are twenty to one — and they
are increasing at a much greater rate than the Euro¬
peans. Moreover, the native population draws on half
a dozen races, including the Zulus, Kaffirs, Hottentots
and Basutos. These Negroes represent an almost primi¬
tive stage of development. They are mainly heathens
and a prey to savagery and superstition. The Cape
Colony is the only one that permits the black man to
go to school or become a skilled artisan. Elsewhere the
white retains his monopoly on the crafts and at the
same time refuses to do any labour that a Negro can
perform. Hence the great need of white immigration
into the Union. The big task, therefore, is to secure
adequate work for the Negro without permitting him to
gain an advantage through it.

It follows that the moment the Kaffir becomes effi¬
cient and picks up a smattering of education he begins
to think about his position and unrest is fomented. It
makes him unstable as an employee, as the constant
desertions from work show. The only way that the gold
and diamond mines keep their thousands of recruited
native workers is to confine them in compounds. The
ordinary labourer has no such restrictions and he is
here today and gone tomorrow.

It is not surprising to discover that in a country
teeming with blacks there are really no good servants,
a condition with which the American housewife can
heartily sympathize. Before I went to Africa nearly
every woman I knew asked me to bring her back a
diamond and a cook. They were much more concerned
about the cook than the diamond. Had I kept every
promise that I made affecting this human jewel, I
would have had to charter a ship to convey them. The
only decent servant I had in Africa was a near-savage

“CAPE-TO-CAXRO” 93

in the Congo, a sad commentary on domestic service
conditions.

The one class of stable servants in the Colony are
the “Cape Boys,” as they are called. They are the
coloured offspring of a European and a Hottentot or a
Malay and are of all shades, from a darkish brown to
a mere tinge. They dislike being called “niggers.”
The first time I saw these Cape Boys was in France dur¬
ing the war. South Africa sent over thousands of them
to recruit the labour battalions and they did excellent
work as teamsters and in other capacities. The Cape
Boy, however, is the exception to the native rule
throughout the Union, which means that most native
labour is unstable and discontented.

Not only is the South African native a menace to
economic expansion but he is likewise something of a
physical danger. In towns like Pretoria and Johannes¬
burg there is a considerable feeling of insecurity.
Women shrink from being left alone with their ser¬
vants and are filled with apprehension while their little
ones are out under black custodianship. The one native
servant, aside from some of the Cape Boys, who has
demonstrated absolute fidelity, is the Zulu whom you
see in largest numbers in Natal. He is still a proud and
kingly-looking person and he carried with him a hint
of the vanished greatness of his race. Perhaps one
reason why he is safe and sane reposes in his recollec¬
tion of the repeated bitter and bloody defeats at the
hands of the white men. Yet the Zulu was in armed
insurrection in Natal in the nineties.

South Africa enjoys no guarantee of immunity from
black uprising even now in the twentieth century when
the world uses the aeroplane and the wireless. During
the past thirty years there have been outbreaks through-

94

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

out the African continent. As recently as 1915 a fanati¬
cal form of Ethiopianism broke out in Nyassaland which
lies north-east of Rhodesia, under the sponsorship of
John Chilembwe, a negro preacher who had been edu¬
cated in the United States. The natives rose, killed a
number of white men and carried off the women. Of
course, it was summarily put down and the leaders
executed. But the incident was significant.

Prester John, whose story is familiar to readers of
J ohn Buchan’s fine romance of the same name, still has
disciples. Like Chilembwe he was a preacher who had
acquired so-called European civilization. He dreamed
of an Africa for the blacks and took his inspiration from
the old kings of Abyssinia. He too met the fate of
all his kind but his spirit goes marching on. In 1919 a
Pan- African Congress was held in Paris to discuss some
plan for what might be called Pan-Ethiopianism. The
following year a negro convention in New York City
advocated that all Africa should be converted into a
black republic.

One example of African native unrest was brought
strikingly to my personal attention. At Capetown I
met one of the heads of a large Cape Colony school for
Negroes which is conducted under religious auspices.
The occasion was a dinner given by J. X. Merriman,
the Grand Old Man of the Cape Colony. This par¬
ticular educator spoke with glowing enthusiasm about
this institution and dwelt particularly upon the evolu¬
tion that was being accomplished. He gave me a press¬
ing invitation to visit it. He happened to be on the train
that I took to Kimberley, which was also the first stage
of his journey home and he talked some more about the
great work the school was doing.

When I reached Kimberley the first item of news

“CAPE-TO-CAIRO”

95

that I read in the local paper was an account of an up¬
rising in the school. Hundreds of native students re¬
belled at the quality of food they were getting and went
on the rampage. They destroyed the power-plant and
wrecked several of the buildings. The constabulary had
to be called out to restore order.

In many respects most Central and South African
Negroes never really lose the primitive in them despite
the claims of uplifters and sentimentalists. Actual con¬
tact is a disillusioning thing. I heard of a concrete
case when I was in the Belgian Congo. A Belgian
judge at a post up the Kasai River acquired an intelli¬
gent Baluba boy. All personal servants in Africa are
called “boys.” This particular native learned French,
acquired European clothes and became a model ser¬
vant. When the judge went home to Belgium on leave
he took the boy along. He decided to stay longer than
he expected and sent the negro back to the Congo. No
sooner did the boy get back to his native heath than he
sold his European clothes, put on a loin cloth, and
squatted on the ground when he ate, precisely like
his savage brethren. It is a typical case, and merely
shows that a great deal of so-called black-acquired civi¬
lization in Africa falls away with the garb of civili¬
zation.

The only African blacks who have really assimilated
the civilizing influence so far as my personal observa¬
tion goes are those of the West Coast. Some of the
inhabitants of Sierra Leone will illustrate what I mean.
Scores have gone to Oxford and Cambridge and have
become doctors, lawyers and competent civil servants.
They resemble the American Negro more than any
others in Africa. This parallel even goes to their fond¬
ness for using big words. I saw hundreds of them hold-

98

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

ing down important clerical positions in the Belgian
Congo where they are known as “Coast-men,” because
they come from the West Coast.

I had an amusing experience with one when I was
on my way out of the Congo jungle. I sent a message
by him to the captain of the little steamboat that took
me up and down the Kasai River. In this message I
asked that the vessel be made ready for immediate de¬
parture. The Coast-man, whose name was Wilson —
they all have English names and speak English fluently
— came back and said :

“I have conveyed your expressed desire to leave im¬
mediately to the captain of your boat. He only returns
a verbal acquiescence but I assure you that he will leave
nothing undone to facilitate your speedy departure.”

He said all this with such a solemn and sober face that
you would have thought the whole destiny of the British
Empire depended upon the elaborateness of his ut¬
terance.

To return to the matter of unrest, all the concrete
happenings that I have related show that the authority
of the white man in Africa is still resented by the natives.
It serves to emphasize what Mr. Lothrop Stoddard,
an eminent authority on this subject, so aptly calls “the
rising tide of colour.” We white people seldom stop
to realize how overwhelmingly we are outnumbered.
Out of the world population of approximately 1,700,-
000,000 persons (I am using Mr. Stoddard’s figures),
only 550,000,000 are white.

A colour conflict is improbable but by no means im¬
possible. We have only to look at our own troubles
with the Japanese to get an intimate glimpse of what
might lurk in a yellow tidal wave. The yellow man
humbled Russia in the Russo-Japanese War and he

“CAPE-TO-CAIRO”

97

smashed the Germans at Kiao Chow in the Great War.
The fact that he was permitted to fight shoulder to
shoulder with the white man has only added to his cocki¬
ness as we have discovered in California.

Remember too that the Germans stirred up all Islam
in their mad attempt to conquer the world. The Mo¬
hammedan has not forgotten what the Teutonic propa¬
gandists told him when they laid the cunning train of
bad feeling that precipitated Turkey into the Great
War. These seeds of discord are bearing fruit in many
Near Eastern quarters. One result is that a British
army is fighting in Mesopotamia now. A Holy War
is merely the full brother of the possible War of Colour.
In East Africa the Germans used thousands of native
troops against the British and Belgians. The blacks
got a taste, figuratively, of the white man’s blood and
it did his system no good.

Throughout the globe there are 150,000,000 blacks
and all but 30,000,000 of them are south of the Sahara
Desert in Africa. They lack the high mental develop¬
ment of the yellow man as expressed in the Japanese,
but even brute force is not to be despised, especially
where it outnumbers the whites to the extent that they
do in South Africa. I am no alarmist and I do not
presume to say that there will be serious trouble. I
merely present these facts to show that certainly so far
as affecting production and economic security in gen¬
eral is concerned, the native still provides a vexing and
irritating problem, not without danger.

The Union of South Africa is keenly alive to this
perplexing native situation. Its policy is what might
be called the Direct Rule, in which the whole administra¬
tion of the country is in the hands of the Europeans and
which is the opposite of the Indirect Rule of India, for

98

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

example, which recognizes Rajahs and other potentates
and which permits the brown man to hold a variety
of public posts.

The Government of the Cape Colony is becoming
convinced that Booker Washington’s idea is the sole
salvation of the race. That great leader maintained
that the hope for the Negro in the United States and
elsewhere lay in the training of his hands. Once those
hands were skilled they could be kept out of mischief.
I recall having discussed this theory one night with
General Smuts at Capetown and he expressed his hearty
approval of it.

The lamented Botha died before he could put into
operation a plan which held out the promise of still
another kind of solution. It lay in the soil. He con¬
tended that an area of forty million acres should be set
aside for the natives, where many could work out their
destinies themselves. While this plan offered the oppor¬
tunity for the establishment of a compact and perhaps
dangerous black entity, his feeling was that by the
avoidance of friction with the whites the possibility of
trouble would be minimized. This scheme is likely to be
carried out by Smuts.

Since the Union of South Africa profited by the
whirligig of war to the extent of acquiring German
South-West Africa it only remains to speak of the new
map of Africa, made possible by the Great Conflict.
Despite the return of Alsace-Lorraine to France one
fails to see concrete evidence of Germany’s defeat in
Europe. Her people are still cocky and defiant. There
is no mistake about her altered condition in Africa.
Her flag there has gone into the discard along with the
wreck of militarism. The immense territory that she
acquired principally by browbeating is lost, down to
the last square mile.

“CAPE-TO-CAIRO”

99

Up to 1884 Germany did not own an inch of African
soil. Within two years she was mistress of more than
a million square miles. Analyze her whole performance
on the continent and a definite cause of the World War
is discovered. It is part of an international conspiracy
studded with astonishing details.

Africa was a definite means to world conquest. Ger¬
many knew of her vast undeveloped wealth. It is now
no secret that her plan was to annex the greater part of
French, Belgian, Italian and Portuguese Africa in the
event that she won. The Berlin-to-Bagdad Railway
would have hitched up the late Teutonic Empire with
the Near East and made it easy to link the African
domain with this intermediary through the Turkish do¬
minions. Here was an imposing program with many
advantages. For one thing it would have given Ger¬
many an untold store of raw materials and it would
also have put her into a position to dictate to Southern
Asia and even South America.

The methods that Germany adopted to acquire her
African possessions were peculiarly typical. Like the
madness that plunged her into a struggle with civiliza¬
tion they were her own undoing. Into a continent
whose middle name, so far as colonization goes, is in¬
trigue she fitted perfectly. Practically every German
colony in Africa represented the triumph of “butting
in” or intimidation. The Kaiser That Was regarded
himself as the mentor, and sought to recast continents
in the same grand way that he lectured his minions.

The first German colony in Africa was German
South-West, as it was called for short, and grew out of a
deal made between a Bremen merchant and a native
chief. On the strength of this Bismarck pinched out an
area almost as big as British East Africa. Before

100

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

twelve months had passed the German flag flew over
what came to be known as German East Africa, and
also over Togoland and the The Cameroons on the
West Coast.

Germany really had no right to invade any of this
country but she was developing into a strong military
power and rather than have trouble, the other nations
acquiesced. Once intrenched, she started her usual in¬
terference. The prize mischief-maker of the universe,
she began to stir up trouble in every quarter. She em¬
broiled the French at Agadir and got into a snarl with
Portugal over Angola.

The Kaiser’s experience with Kruger is typical.
When the Jameson Raid petered out William Hohen-
zollern sent the dictator of the Transvaal a telegram of
congratulation. The old Boer immediately regarded
him as an ally and counted on his aid when the Boer
War started. Instead, he got the double-cross after
he had sent his ultimatum to England. At that time
the Kaiser warily side-stepped an entanglement with
Britain for the reason that she was too useful.

It is now evident that a large part of the Congo atroc¬
ity was a German scheme. The head and front of the
expose movement was Sir Roger Casement of London.
He sought to foment a German-financed revolution in
Ireland and was hanged as a traitor in the Tower.

Behind this atrocity crusade was just another evi¬
dence of the German desire to control Africa. By
rousing the world against Belgium, Germany expected
to bring auother Berlin Congress, which would be ex¬
pected to give her the stewardship of the Belgian Congo.
The result would have been a German belt across
Africa from the Indian to the Atlantic Oceans. She
could thus have had England and France at a disad-

“CAPE-TO-CAIRO”

101

vantage on the north, and England and Portugal where
she wanted them, to the south. Hence the Great War
was not so much a matter of German meddling in the
Balkans as it was her persistent manipulation of other
nations’ affairs in Africa. She was playing “freeze-
out” on a stupendous scale. You can see why Germany
was so much opposed to the Cape-to-Cairo Route. It
interfered with her ambitions and provided a constant
irritant to her “benevolent” plans.

So much for the war end. Turn to the peace aspect.
With Germany eliminated from the African scheme the
whole region can enter upon a harmonious development.
More than this, the fact that she is now deprived of
colonies prevents her from recovering the world- wide
economic authority she commanded before the war. A
congested population allows her no more elbow room at
home. Before she went mad her whole hope of the
future lay in a colonization where her flag could fly in
public, and in a penetration which cunningly masked the
German hand. The world is now wise to the latter pro¬
cedure.

The new colour scheme of the African map may now
be disclosed. The Union of South Africa, as you have
seen, has taken over German South-West Africa; Great
Britain has assumed the control of all German East
Africa with the exception of Ruanda and Urundu,
which have become part of the Belian Congo. Togoland
is divided between France and Britain, while the greater
part of The Cameroons is merged into the Lower French
West African possessions of which the French Congo
is the principal one. Britain gets the Cameroon Moun¬
tains.

The one-time Dark Continent remains dark only for
Germany.

Photograph Copyright British South Africa Co.

Ill — RHODES AND RHODESIA

I

FOR fifty-eight hours the train from Johannes¬
burg had travelled steadily northward, past
Mafeking and on through the apparently end¬
less stretches of Bechuanaland. Alternately frozen and
baked, I had swallowed enough dust to stock a small¬
sized desert. Dawn of the third day broke and with
it came a sharp rap on my compartment door. I had
been dreaming of a warm bath and a joltless life when
I was rudely restored to reality. The car was stationary
and a blanketed Matabele, his teeth chattering with the
cold, peered in at the window.

“What is it?” I asked.

“You are in Rhodesia and I want to know who you
are,” boomed a voice out in the corridor.

I opened the door and a tall, rangy, bronzed man —
the immigration inspector — stepped inside. He looked
like a cross between an Arizona cowboy and an Aus¬
tralian overseas soldier. When I proved to his satis¬
faction that I was neither Bolshevik nor Boche he de¬
parted with the remark: ‘We’ve got to keep a watch on
the people who come into this country.”

Such was my introduction to Rhodesia, where the
limousine and the ox-team compete for right of way on
the veldt and the ’rickshaw yields to the motor-cycle in

103

104

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

the town streets. Nowhere in the world can you find a
region that combines to such vivid and picturesque ex¬
tent the romance and hardship of the pioneer age with
the push and practicality of today. Here existed the
“King Solomon’s Mines” of Rider Haggard’s fancy:
here the modern gold-seekers of fact sought the treasures
of Ophir; here Nature gives an awesome manifestation
of her power in the Victoria Falls.

It is the only country where a great business corpo¬
ration rules, not by might of money but by chartered
authority. Linked with that rule is the story of a con¬
flict between share-holder and settler that is unique in
the history of colonization. It is the now-familiar and
well-nigh universal struggle for self-determination
waged in this instance between all-British elements and
without violence.

All the way from Capetown I had followed the trail
of Cecil Rhodes, which like the man himself, is distinct.
It is not the succession of useless and conventional monu¬
ments reared by a grateful posterity. Rather it is ex¬
pressed in terms of cities and a permanent industrial
and agricultural advance. “Living he was the land,”
and dead, his imperious and constructive spirit goes
marching on. The Rhodes impress is everywhere.
Now I had arrived at the cap-stone of it all, the domain
that bears his name and which he added to the British
Empire.

Less than two hours after the immigration inspector
had given me the once-over on the frontier I was in
Bulawayo, metropolis of Rhodesia, which sprawls over
the veldt just like a bustling Kansas community spreads
out over the prairie. It is definitely American in energy
and atmosphere. Save for the near-naked blacks you
could almost imagine yourself in Idaho or Montana back
in the days when our West was young.

RHODES AND RHODESIA

105

Before that first day ended I had lunched and dined
in a club that would do credit to Capetown or J ohannes-
burg; had met women who wore French frocks, and had
heard the possibilities of the section acclaimed by a dozen
enthusiasts. Everyone in Rhodesia is a born booster.
Again you get the parallel with our own kind.

To the average American reader Rhodesia is merely
a name, associated with the midnight raid of stealthy
savage and all the terror and tragedy of the white man’s
burden amid the wild confines. All this happened, to
be sure, but it is part of the past. While South Africa
still wrestles with a serious native problem, Rhodesia
has settled it once and for all. It would be impossible
to find a milder lot than the survivors and sons of the
cruel and war-like Lobengula who once ruled here like
a despot of old. His tribesmen — the Matabeles - —
were put in their place by a strong hand and they re¬
main put.

Bulawayo was the capital of Lobengula’s kingdom.
The word means “Place of Slaughter,” and it did not
belie the name. You can still see the tree under which
the portly potentate sat and daily dispensed sanguinary
judgment. His method was quite simple. If anyone
irritated or displeased him he was haled up “under the
greenwood” and sentenced to death. If gout or rheu¬
matism racked the royal frame the chief executed the
first passerby and then considered the source of the
trouble removed. The only thing that really departed
was the head of the innocent victim. Lobengula had
sixty-eight wives, which may account for some of his
eccentricities. Chaka, the famous king of the Zulus,
whose favourite sport was murdering his sons (he feared
a rival to the throne), was an amateur in crime along¬
side the dusky monarch whom the British suppressed,

106 AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

and thereby gained what is now the most prosperous
part of Southern Rhodesia.

The occupation and development of Rhodesia are so
comparatively recent— (Rhodes and Dr. Jameson
were fighting the Matabeles at Bulawayo in 1896) —
that any account of the country must at the outset in¬
clude a brief historical approach to the time of my visit
last May. Probe into the beginnings of any African
colony and you immediately uncover intrigue and mili¬
tant imperialism. Rhodesia is no exception.

For ages the huge continent of which it is part was
veiled behind mystery and darkness. The northern and
southern extremes early came into the ken of the ex¬
plorer and after him the builder. So too with most of
the coast. But the vast central belt, skirted by the arid
reaches of Sahara on one side and unknown territory on
the other, defied civilization until Livingstone, Stanley,
Speke, and Grant blazed the way. Then began the
scramble for colonies.

Early in the eighties more than one European power
cast covetous glances at what might be called the South
Central area. Thanks to the economic foresight of
King Leopold, Belgium had secured the Congo. Be¬
tween this region which was then a Free State, and the
Transvaal, was an immense and unappropriated coun¬
try, — a sort of no man’s land, rich with minerals, teem¬
ing with forests and peopled by savages. Two
territories, Matabeleland, ruled by Lobengula, and
Mashonaland, inhabited by the Mashonas, who were to
all intents and purposes vassals to Lobengula, were the
prize portions. Another immense area — the present
British protectorate of Bechuanaland — was immedi¬
ately south and touched the Cape Colony and the Trans¬
vaal. Portuguese East Africa lay to the east but the

RHODES AND RHODESIA

107

backbone of Africa south of the Congo line lay ready
to be plucked by venturesome hands.

Nor were the hands lacking for the enterprise. Ger¬
many started to strengthen the network of conspiracy
that had already yielded her a million square miles of
African soil and she was reaching out for more. Con¬
trol of Africa meant for her a big step toward world
conquest. Paul Kruger, President of the Transvaal
Republic, which touched the southern edge of this un¬
claimed domain, saw in it the logical extension of his
dominions.

Down at Capetown was Rhodes, dreaming of a
Greater Britain and determined to block the Kaiser and
Kruger. It was largely due to his efforts while a mem¬
ber of the Cape Parliament that Britain was persuaded
to annex Bechuanaland as a Crown Colony. Fore¬
stalled here, Kruger was determined to get the rest of
the country beyond Bechuanaland and reaching to the
southern border of the Congo. His emissaries began
to dicker with chiefs and he organized an expedition to
invade the territory. Once more Rhodes beat him to
it, this time in history-making fashion.

Following his theory that it is better to deal with
a man than fight him, he sent C. D. Rudd, Rochfort
Maguire, and F. R. (“Matabele”) Thompson up to deal
directly with Lobengula. They were ideal envoys for
Thompson in particular knew every inch of the country
and spoke the native languages. From the crafty chief¬
tain they obtained a blanket concession for all the min¬
eral and trading rights in Matabeleland for £1,200 a
year and one thousand rifles. Rhodes now converted
this concession into a commercial and colonizing achieve¬
ment without precedent or parallel. It became the
Magna Charta of the great British South Africa Com-

108

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

pany, which did for Africa what the East India Com¬
pany did for India. Counting in Bechuanaland, it
added more than 700,000 square miles to the British
Empire.

Like the historic document so inseparably associated
with the glories of Clive and Hastings, its Charter
shaped the destiny of the empire and is associated with
battle, blood, and the eventual triumph of the Anglo-
Saxon over the man of colour. Other chartered com¬
panies have wielded autocratic power over millions of
natives but the royal right to exist and operate, bestowed
by Queen Victoria upon the British South Africa Com¬
pany — the Chartered Company as it is commonly
known — was the first that ever gave a corporation
the administrative authority over a politically active
country with a white population. The record of its rule
is therefore distinct in the annals of Big Business.

It was in 1899 that Rhodes got the Charter. In his
conception of the Rhodesia that was to be — (it was
first called Zambesia) — he had two distinct purposes
in view. One was the larger political motive which was
to widen the Empire and keep the Germans and Boers
from annexing territory that he believed should be
British. This was Rhodes the imperialist at work. The
other aspect was the purely commercial side and re¬
vealed the same shrewdness that had registered so suc¬
cessfully in the creation of the Diamond Trust at Kim¬
berley. This was Rhodes the business man on the job.

The Charter itself was a visualization of the Rhodes
mind and it matched the Cape-to-Cairo project in big¬
ness of vision. It gave the Company the right to acquire
and develop land everywhere, to engage in shipping, to
build railway, telegraph and telephone lines, to establish
banks, to operate mines and irrigation undertakings and

RHODES AND RHODESIA

109

to promote commerce and manufacture of all kinds.
Nothing was overlooked. It meant the union of busi¬
ness and statesmanship.

Under the Charter the Company was given adminis¬
trative control of an area larger than that of Great
Britain, France and Prussia. It divided up into North¬
ern and Southern Rhodesia with the Zambesi River as
the separating line. Northern Rhodesia remains a
sparsely settled country — there are only 2,000
white inhabitants to 850,000 natives — and the only
industry of importance is the lead and zinc development
at Broken Hill. Southern Rhodesia, where there are
35,000 white persons and 800,000 natives, has been the
stronghold of Chartered interests and the battleground
of the struggle to throw off corporate control. It is
the Rhodesia to be referred to henceforth in this chapter
without prefix.

The Charter is perpetual but it contained a provision
that at the end of twenty-five years, (1914) and at the
end of each succeeding ten years, the Imperial Govern¬
ment has the power to alter, amend or rescind the instru¬
ment so far as the administration of Rhodesia is con¬
cerned. No vital change in the original document has
been made so far, but by the time the next cycle expires
in 1924 it is certain that the Company control will have
ended and Rhodesia will either be a part of the Union
of South Africa or a self-determining Colony.

The Company is directed by a Board of Directors in
London, but no director resides in the country itself.
Thus at the beginning the fundamental mistake was
made in attempting to run an immense area at long
range. With the approval of the Foreign Office the
Company names an Administrator, — the present one
is Sir Drummond Chaplin, — who, like the average

110

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

Governor- General, has little to say. The Company has
exercised a copper-riveted control and this rigid rule
led to its undoing, as you will see later on.

The original capitalization was £1,000,000, — it was
afterwards increased to £9,000,000, — but it is only a
part of the stream of pounds sterling that has been
poured into the country. In all the years of its existence
the company has never paid a dividend. It is only since
1914 that the revenue has balanced expenditures. More
than 40,000 shareholders have invested in the enter¬
prise. Today the fate of the country rests practically
on the issue between the interests of these shareholders
on one hand and the 35,000 inhabitants on the other.
Once more you get the spectacle, so common to Ameri¬
can financial history, of a strongly intrenched vested
interest with the real exploiter or the consumer arrayed
against it. The Company rule has not been harsh but
it has been animated by a desire to make a profit. The
homesteaders want liberty of movement without handi¬
cap or restraint. An irrenconcilable conflict ensued.

CULTIVATING CITRUS LAND IN RHODESIA

II

WE can now go into the story of the occupa¬
tion of Rhodesia, which not only unfolds a
stirring drama of development but discloses
something of an epic of adventure. With most corpora¬
tions it is an easy matter to get down to business once
a charter is granted . It is only necessary to subscribe
stock and then enter upon active operations, whether
they produce soap, razors or automobiles. The market
is established for the product.

With the British South Africa Company it was a far
different and infinitely more difficult performance, to
translate the license to operate into action. Matabele-
land and Mashonaland were wild regions where war-like
tribes roamed or fought at will. There were no roads.
The only white men who had ventured there were hunt¬
ers, traders, and concession seekers. Occupation pre¬
ceded exploitation. A white man’s civilization had to be
set up first. The rifle and the hoe went in together.

In June, 1890, the Pioneer Column entered. Head¬
ing it were two men who left an impress upon African
romance. One was Dr. Jameson, hero of the Raid and
Rhodes’ most intimate friend. The first time I met
him I marvelled that this slight, bald, mild little man
should have been the central figure in so many heroic
exploits. The other was the famous hunter, F. C.
Selous, who was Roosevelt’s companion in British East
• Africa. Under them were less than two hundred white
men, including Captain Heany, an American, who now

in

312

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

invaded a country where Lobengula had an army of
20,000 trained fighters, organized into impis — (regi-
ments) - — after the Zulu fashion and in every respect a
formidable force. Although the old chief had granted
the concession, no one trusted him and Jameson and
Selous had to feel their way, sleep under arms every
night, and build highways as they went.

Upon Lobengula’s suggestion it was decided to
occupy Mashonaland first. This was achieved without
any trouble and the British flag was raised on what is
now the site of Salisbury, the capital of Southern
Rhodesia. Most of the members of the expedition re¬
mained as settlers, and farms sprang up on the veldt.
The Company had to organize a police force to patrol
the land and keep off predatory natives. But this
was purely incidental to the larger troubles that now
crowded thick and fast. In the South the Boers
launched an expedition to occupy Matabeleland by force
and it had to be headed off. To the east rose friction with
the Portuguese and a Rhodesian contingent was com¬
pelled to occupy part of Portuguese East Africa until
the boundary line was adjusted.

In 1893 came the first of the events that made
Rhodesia a storm center. A Matabele regiment raided
the new town of Victoria and killed some of the Com¬
pany’s native servants. The Matabeles then went on the
warpath and Dr. Jameson took the field against them.
For five weeks a bitter struggle raged. It ended with
the defeat and disappearance of Lobengula and the
occupation of Bulawayo by the Company forces. This
brought the whole of Matabeleland under the direct
authority of the British South Africa Company. The
campaign cost the Company $500,000.

Three years of peace and progress followed. Rail-

RHODES AND RHODESIA

113

way construction started in two directions. One line
was headed from the south through Bechuanaland to¬
ward Bulawayo and another from Beira, the Indian
Ocean port in Portuguese East Africa, westward to¬
ward Salisbury. Gold mines were opened and farms
extended. At the end of 1895 came the Jameson Raid.
Practically the entire force under the many-sided Doc¬
tor was recruited from the Rhodesian police and they
were all captured by the Boers. Rhodesia was left
defenceless.

The Matabeles seized this moment to strike again.
Ever since the defeat of 1893 they had been restless and
discontented. Various other causes contributed to the
uprising. One is peculiarly typical of the African
savage. An outbreak of rinderpest, a disease hitherto
unknown in Southern Africa, came down from the
North and ravaged the cattle herds. In order to check
the advance of the pest the Government established a
clear belt by shooting all the cattle in a certain area. It
was impossible for the Matabeles to understand the wis¬
dom of this procedure. They only saw it as an outrage
committed by the white men on their property for they
were extensive cattle owners. In addition many died
after eating infected meat and they also held the settlers
responsible. The net result of it all was a sudden descent
upon the white settlements and scores of white men,
women and children were slaughtered.

This time the operations against them were on a large
scale. The present Lord Plumer, who commanded the
Fourth British Army in France against the Germans, —
he was then a Lieutenant Colonel — came up with eight
hundred soldiers and drove the Matabeles into the fast¬
nesses of the Matopos, — a range of hills fifty miles long
and more than twenty wide. Here the savages took
refuge in caves and could not be driven out.

114

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

You now reach one of the remarkable feats in the life
of Cecil Rhodes. The moment that the second Matabele
war began he hastened northward to the country that
bore his name. As soon as the Matabeles took refuge
in the Matopos he boldly went out to parley with them.
With three unarmed companions, one of them an inter¬
preter, he set up a camp in the wilds and sent emissaries
to the syndicate of the chiefs who had succeeded Loben-
gula. He had become Premier of the Cape Colony, was
head of the great DeBeers Diamond Syndicate, and had
other immense interests. He was also Managing Direc¬
tor of the British South Africa Company and the big¬
gest stockholder. He was determined to protect his
interests and at the same time preserve the integrity
of the country that he loved so well.

He exposed himself every night to raids by the most
blood-thirsty savages in all Africa. Plumer’s com¬
mand was camped nearly five miles away but Rhodes
refused a guard.

Rhodes waited patiently and his perseverance was
eventually rewarded. One by one the chiefs came down
from the hills and succumbed to the persuasiveness and
personality of this remarkable man who could deal with
wild and naked warriors as successfully as he could dic¬
tate to a group of hard-headed business men. After two
months of negotiating the Matabeles were appeased and
permanent peace, so far as the natives were concerned,
dawned in Rhodesia. After his feat in the Matopos the
Matabeles called Rhodes “The Man Who Separated the
Fighting Bulls.” It was during this period in Rhodesia
that Rhodes discovered the place which he called “The
View of the World,” and where his remains now lie in
lonely grandeur.

At Groote Schuur, the Rhodes house near Capetown,

RHODES AND RHODESIA

115

which he left as the permanent residence of the Prime
Minister of the Union of South Africa, I saw a prized
souvenir of the Matopos conferences with the Matabeles.
On the wall in Rhodes’ bedroom hangs the faded picture
of an old and shriveled Matabele woman. When I
asked General Smuts to tell me who she was he replied :
“That is the woman who acted as the chief negotiator
between Rhodes and the rebels.” I afterwards found
out that she was one of the wives of Umziligazi, father
of Lobengula, and a noted Zulu chieftain. Rhodes
never forgot the service she rendered him and caused the
photograph of her to be taken.

Following the last Matabele insurrection the Imperial
Government which is represented in Rhodesia by a Resi¬
dent Commissioner assumed control of the natives. The
Crown was possibly guided by the precedent of Natal,
where a premature Responsible Government was fol¬
lowed by two Zulu wars which well-nigh wrecked the
province. It has become the policy of the Home Gov¬
ernment not to permit a relatively small white popula¬
tion to rule the natives. Whatever the influence,
Rhodesia has had no trouble with the natives since
Rhodes made the peace up in the hills of the Matopos.

The moment that the war of force ended, another
and bloodless war of words began and it has continued
ever since. I mean the fight for self-government that
the settlers have waged against the Chartered Company.
This brings us to a contest that contributes a significant
and little-known chapter to the whole narrative of self-
determination among the small peoples.

Through its Charter the British South Africa Com¬
pany was able to fasten a copper-rivetted rule on
Rhodesia. Most of the Directors in London, with the
exception of men like Dr. Jameson, knew very little

110

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

about the country. There was no resident Director in
Africa and the members of the Board only came out
just before the elections. The Administrator was
always a Company man and until 1899 his administra¬
tive associates in the field were the members of an
Executive Council nominated by the Company. Mean¬
while thousands of men had invested their fortunes in
the land and the inevitable time came when they believed
that they should have a voice in the conduct of its
affairs.

This sentiment became so widespread that in 1899
the country was given a Legislative Council which for
the first time enabled the Rhodesians to elect some of
their own people to office. At first they were only
allowed three members, while the Company nominated
six others. This always gave the Chartered interests
a majority. Subsequently, as the clamour for popular
representation grew, the number of elected representa¬
tives was increased to thirteen, while those nominated
by Charter remained the same. To get a majority
under the new deal it was only necessary for the Com¬
pany to get the support of four elected members and on
account of its relatively vast commercial interest it was
usually easy to do this.

It would be difficult to find an exact parallel to this
situation. In America we have had many conflicts with
what our campaign orators call “Special Privilege,”
an institution which thrived before the searchlight of
publicity was turned on corporate control and prior to
the time when fangs were put into the stewardship of
railways. These contestants were sometimes decided at
the polls with varying degrees of success. Perhaps the
nearest approach to the Rhodesian line-up was the strug¬
gle of the California wheat growers against the Southern

RHODES AND RHODESIA

117

Pacific Railway, which Frank Norris dramatized in his
book, “The Octopus.”

All the while the feeling for Responsible Government
in Rhodesia grew. A strong group which opposed the
Chartered regime sprang up. At the beginning of the
struggle the line was sharply drawn between the Charter
adherents on one side and unorganized opponents on
the other. By 1914 the issue was sharply defined. The
first twenty-five years of the Charter were about to end
and the insurgents realized that it was an opportune
moment for a show of strength. The opposition had
three plans. Some advocated the conversion of Rho¬
desia into a Crown Colony, others strongly urged admis¬
sion to the Union of South Africa, while still another
wing stood for Responsible Government. It was de¬
cided to unite on a common platform of Responsible
Government.

For the first time the Company realized that it had a
fight on its hands and Dr. Jameson, who had become
president of the corporation, went out to Rhodesia and
made speeches urging loyalty to the Charter. His
appearance stirred memories of the pioneer days and
almost without exception the old guard rallied round
him. A red-hot campaign ensued with the result that
the whole pro-Charter ticket, with one exception, was
elected, although the antis polled 45 per cent of the
total vote.

Out of this defeat came a partial victory for the Pro¬
gressives. The Imperial Government saw the hand¬
writing on the wall and acting within its powers, which
permitted an administrative change in the Charter at
the end of every ten years, granted a Supplemental
Charter which provided that the Legislative Council
could by an absolute majority of all its members pass a

118

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

resolution “praying the Crown to establish in Southern
Rhodesia the form of Government known as Responsi¬
ble Government,” provided that it could financially
support this procedure. It gave the insurgents fresh
hope and it made the Company realize that sooner or
later its authority must end.

Then the Great War broke. Every available man
that could possibly be spared went to the Front and the
life of the Council was extended until 1920, when a con¬
clusive election was to be held. Meanwhile the Com¬
pany, realizing that it must sooner or later bow to the
people’s will, got busy with an attempt to realize on its
assets. Chief among them were the millions of acres of
so-called “unalienated” or Crown land in Southern
Rhodesia. The Chartered Company claimed this land
as a private asset. The settlers alleged that it belonged
to them. The Government said it was an imperial
possession. The Privy Council in London upheld the
latter contention. Thereupon the Company filed a claim
for $35,000,000.00 against the Government to cover the
value of this land and its losses throughout the years
of administration.

Yielding to pressure the Legislative Council in 1919
asked the British Government to declare itself on the
question of replacing the Charter with some form of
Government suited to the needs of the country. Lord
Milner, the Colonial Secretary, answered in what came
to be known as the “Milner Despatch.” In it he said
that he did not believe the territory “in its present stage
of development was equal to the financial burden of Re¬
sponsible Government.” Lie mildly suggested repre¬
sentative government under the Crown.

The general expectation throughout Rhodesia was
that no election would be held until a Government Com-

RHODES AND RHODESIA

119

mission then sitting, had inquired into the validity of the
Company’s immense claim for damages. Early in
March 1920, however, the Legislative Council gave no¬
tice that the election was set for April 30th. It proved
to be the most exciting ever held in Rhodesia. The Char¬
tered Company made no fight. The contest was really
waged between the two wings of the anti-Charter crowd.
One favored Responsible Government and the other,
admission to the Union of South Africa.

The arguments for Responsible Government briefly
were these : That under the Supplemental Charter it was
the only constitutional change possible; that the finan¬
cial burden was not too heavy; that the native question
was no bar ; that the Imperial Government would never
saddle the country with the huge debt of the Company ;
that under the Uuion a hateful bi-lingualism would be
introduced; that taxation would not be excessive, and
that finally, the right of self-determination as to Govern¬
ment was the birthright of the British people.

The adherents of Union contended that the original
idea of Cecil Rhodes was to make Rhodesia a part of
the Union of South Africa; that by this procedure the
vexing problem of customs with the Union would be
solved; that the system of self-government in South
Africa meets every requirement of self-determination.
Moreover, the point was made that by becoming a part
of the Union the whole railway question would be
settled. At present the Rhodesian railways have three
ends, one in South Africa at Vrvburg, another on the
Belgian border, and a third at the sea at Beira. It was
claimed that through the Union, Rhodesia would benefit
by becoming a part of the nationalized railway system
there and get the advantage of a British port at the Cape
instead of Beira, which is Portuguese. In other words,

120 AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

Union meant stability of credit, politics, finance and
industry.

The outcome of the election was that twelve Respon¬
sible Government candidates, one of them a woman,
were elected. Women voted for the first time in Rho¬
desia and they solidly opposed the union with South
Africa. The thirteenth member elected stood for the
conversion of the country into a Crown Colony under
representative government. Throughout the campaign
the Chartered Company remained neutral, although it
was obviously opposed to Responsible Government.
The feeling throughout Rhodesia is that it favors Union
because it could dispose of its assets to better advantage.

I arrived in Rhodesia immediately after the election.
The country still sizzled with excitement. Curiously
enough, the head, brains and front of the fight for union
with South Africa was a former American, now a
British subject and who has been a ranchman in Rho¬
desia for some years. Fie prefers to be nameless.

In the light of the landslide at the polls it naturally
followed that the new Legislative Council at its first
meeting passed a resolution declaring for Responsible
Government. The vote was twelve to five. Since this
was not an absolute majority, as required by the Sup¬
plementary Charter, it is expected that the Imperial
Government will decide against granting this form of
government just now. The next procedure will prob¬
ably be a request for representative government under
the Crown or some modification of the Charter, and for
an Imperial loan. Rhodesia has no borrowing power
and the country needs money just as much as its needs
men. The adherents of Union claim that on a straight
show-down between Crown Colony or Union at the next
election, Union will win. From what I gathered in

RHODES AND RHODESIA

121

conversation with the leaders of both factions, there
would have been a bigger vote, possibly victory for
Union, but for the Nationalist movement in South
Africa, which I described in a previous chapter. The
Rhodesians want no racial entanglements.

Northern Rhodesia has no part in the fight against the
Charter. It is only a question of time, however, when
she will be merged into Southern Rhodesia for, with the
passing of the Company, her destiny becomes identical
with that of her sister territory. Northern Rhodesia’s
chief complaint against the Company was that it did
not spend any money within her borders. After reading
the story of the crusade for Responsible Government
you can understand the reason why.

Whatever happens, Charter rule in Rhodesia is
doomed and the great Company, born of the vision and
imperialism of Cecil Rhodes, and which battled with the
wild man in the wilderness, will eventually vanish from
the category of corporations. But Rhodesia remains a
thriving part of the British Empire and the dream of the
founder is realized.

Ill

RHODESIA produces much more than trouble
for the Chartered Company. She is pre¬
eminently a land of ranches and farms. Here
you get still another parallel with the United States
because it is no uncommon thing to find a farm of
50,000 acres or more.

I doubt if any other new region in the world contains
a finer or sturdier manhood than Rhodesia. Like the
land itself it is a stronghold of youth. Likewise, no
other colony, and for that matter, no other matured
country exercises such a rigid censorship upon settlers.
Until the high cost of living disorganized all economic
standards, no one could establish himself in Rhodesia
without a minimum capital of £1,000. So far as farm¬
ing is concerned, this is now increased to £2,000. There¬
fore, you do not see the signs of failure which so often
dot the semi-virgin landscape. Knowing this, you can
understand why the immigration inspector gives the
incoming travellers a rigid cross-examination at the
frontier.

Also it is simon-pure Rritish, and more like Natal in
this respect than any other territory under the Union-
jack. I had a convincing demonstration in a personal
experience. I made a speech at the Bulawayo Club. The
notice was short but I was surprised to find more than
a hundred men assembled after dinner, many in evening

122

RHODES AND RHODESIA

123

clothes. Some had travelled all day on horseback or in
buckboards to get there, others had come hundreds of
miles by motor car.

I never addressed a more responsive audience. What
impressed me was the kindling spirit of affection they
manifested for the Mother Country. In conversation
with many of them afterwards it was interesting to hear
the sons of settlers referring to the England that they
had never seen, as “home.” That night I realized as
never before, — not even amid the agony and sacrifice
of the Somme or the Ancre in France, — one reason
why the British Empire is great and why, despite all
muddling, it carries on. It lies in the feeling of imperial
kinship far out at the frontiers of civilization. The
colonial is in many respects a more devoted loyalist than
the man at home.

Wherever I went I found the Rhodesian agriculturist

— and he constitutes the bulk of the white population,

— essentially modern in his methods. He reminds me
more of the Kansas farmer than any other alien agri¬
culturists that I have met. He uses tractors and does
things in a big way. There is a trail of gasoline all over
the country. Motorcycles have become an ordinary
means of transport for district officials and engineers,
who fly about over the native paths that are often the
merest tracks. You find these machines in the remotest
regions. The light motor car is also beginning to be
looked upon as a necessary part of the outfit of the
farmer.

There was a time when the average Rhodesian be¬
lieved that gold was the salvation of the country.
Repeated “booms” and the inevitable losses have
brought the people to agree with the opinion of one of
the pioneers, that “the true wealth of the country lies

124

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

in the top twelve inches of the soil.” Agriculture is
surpassing mining as the principal industry.

The staple agricultural product is maize, which is
corn in the American phraseology. Until a few years
ago the bulk of it was consumed at home. Recently,
however, on account of the farm expansion, there is an
increasing surplus for export to the Union of South
Africa, the Belgian Congo, and even to Europe.

The facts about maize are worth considering, Every
year 200,000,000 bags, each weighing 200 pounds, are
consumed throughout the world. Heretofore the prin¬
cipal sources of supply have been the Argentine and the
United States. We have come to the time, however,
when we absorb practically our whole crop. Formerly
we exported about 10,000,000 bags. There is no de¬
crease in corn consumption despite prohibition. Hence
Rhodesia is bound to loom large in the situation. Last
year she produced more than a million bags. Maize is a
crop that revels in sunshine and in Rhodesia the sun
shines brilliantly throughout the year practically without
variation. This enables the product to be sun-dried.

Other important crops are tobacco, beans, peanuts
(which are invariably called monkey nuts in that part
of the universe), wheat and oranges. Under irrigation,
citrus fruits, oats and barley do well.

Cattle are a bulwark of Rhodesian prosperity. The
immense pasturage areas are reminiscent of Texas and
Montana. For a hundred years before the white settlers
came, the Matabeles and the Mashonas raised live stock,
The natives still own about 700,000 head, nearly as
many as the whites. I was interested to find that the
British South Africa Company has imported a number
of Texas ranchmen to act as cattle experts and advise
the ranchers generally. This is due to a desire to begin

RHODES AND RHODESIA

125

a competition with the Argentine and the United States
in chilled and frozen meats. One of the greatest British
manufactures of beef extracts owns half a dozen ranches
in Rhodesia and it is not unlikely that American meat
men will follow. Mr. J. Ogden Armour is said to be
keenly interested in the country with the view of expand¬
ing the resources of the Chicago packers. This is one
result of the World War, which has caused the producer
of food everywhere to bestir himself and insure future
supplies.

In connection with Rhodesian farming and cattle¬
raising is a situation well worthy of emphasis. There is
no labour problem. You find, for example, that miracle
of miracles which is embodied in a native at work. It is in
sharp contrast with South Africa and the Congo, where,
with millions of coloured people it is almost impossible to
get help. The Rhodesian black still remains outside the
leisure class. Whether it is due to his fear of the whites
or otherwise, he is an active member of the productive
order.

The native will work for the white man but, save to
raise enough maize for himself, he will not become an
agriculturist. I heard a typical story about Lewaniki,
Chief of the Barotses, who once ruled a large part of
what is now Northern Rhodesia. Someone asked him
to get his people to raise cotton. His answer was :

“What is the use? They cannot eat it.”

In Africa the native’s world never extends beyond his
stomach. I was soon to find costly evidence of this in
the Congo.

The African native is quite a character. He is not
only a born actor but has a quaint humor. In the center
of the main street at Bulawayo is a bronze statue of
Cecil Rhodes, bareheaded, and with his face turned

126

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

toward the North. Just as soon as it was unveiled the
Matabeles expressed considerable astonishment over it.
They could not understand why the figure never moved.
Shortly afterwards a great drought came. A native
chief went to see the Resident Commissioner and sol¬
emnly told him that he was quite certain that there
would be no rain “until they put a hat on Mr. Rhodes’
head.”

The Lewaniki anecdote reminds me of an admirable
epigram that was produced in Rhodesia. Out there
food is commonly known as “skoff,” just as “chop” is
the equivalent in the Congo. A former Resident Com¬
missioner, noted for the keenness of his wit, once
asked a travelling missionary to dine with him. After
the meal the guest insisted upon holding a religious
service at the table. In speaking of the performance
the Commissioner said : “My guest came to ‘skoff’ and
remained to pray.”

Whenever you visit a new land you almost invariably
discover mental alertness and progressiveness that often
put the older civilizations to shame. Let me illustrate.
Go to England or France today and you touch the really
tragic aftermath of the war. You see thousands of
demobilized officers and men vainly searching for work.
Many are reduced to the extremity of begging. It has
become an acute and poignant problem, that i^ not
without its echo over here.

Rhodesia, through the British South Africa Com¬
pany, is doing its bit toward solution. It has set aside
500,000 acres which are being allotted free of charge to
approved soldier and sailor settlers from overseas. Not
only are they being given the land but they are provided
with expert advice and supervision. The former ser¬
vice men who are unable to borrow capital with which

RHODES AND RHODESIA

127

to exploit the land, are merged into a scheme by which
they serve an apprenticeship for pay on the established
farms and ranches until they are able to shift for
themselves.

The Chartered Company, despite its political ma¬
chine, has developed Rhodesia “on its own,” and in
rather striking fashion. It operates dairies, gold mines,
citrus estates, nurseries, ranches, tobacco warehouses,
abattoirs, cold storage plants and dams, which insures
adequate water supply in various sections. It is a
profitable example of constructive paternalism whose
results will be increasingly evident long after the famous
Charter has passed into history.

No phase of the Company’s activities is more im¬
portant than its construction of the Rhodesian railways.
They represent a double-barrelled private ownership
in that they were built and are operated by the Com¬
pany. There are nearly 2,600 miles of track. One sec¬
tion of the system begins down at Vryburg in Bechuana-
land, where it connects with the South African Rail¬
ways, and extends straight northward through Bula¬
wayo and Victoria Falls to the Congo border. The
other starts at Beira on the Indian Ocean and runs west
through Salisbury, the capital, to Bulawayo.

These railways have a remarkable statistical distinc¬
tion in that there is one mile of track for every thirteen
white inhabitants. No other system in the world can
duplicate it. The Union of South Africa comes
nearest with 143 white inhabitants per mile or just
eleven times as many. Canada has 27, Australia 247,
the United States and New Zealand 400 each, while
the United Kingdom has over 200 inhabitants for every
mile of line.

Rhodesia is highly mineralized. Coal occurs in three

128

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

areas and one of them, Wankie, — a vast field, — is
extensively operated. Gold is found over the greater
part of the country. Here you not only touch an Amer¬
ican interest but you enter upon the region that Rider
Haggard introduced to readers as the setting of some of
his most famous romances. We will deal with the prac¬
tical side first.

Rhodes had great hopes of Rhodesia as a gold-
producing country. He wanted the economic value of
the country to rank with the political. Thousands of
years ago the natives dug mines and many of these
ancient workings are still to be seen. They never exceed
forty or fifty feet in depth. Many leading authorities
claimed that the South Arabians of the Kingdom of
Saba often referred to in the Bible were the pioneers
in the Rhodesian gold fields and sold the output to the
Phoenicians. Others contended that the Phoenicians
themselves delved here. Until recently it was also main¬
tained by some scientists and Biblical scholars that
modern Southern Rhodesia was the famed land of
Ophir, whence came the gold and precious stones that
decked the persons and palaces of Solomon and David.
This, however, has been disproved, and Ophir is still
the butt of archaeological dispute. It has been “located”
in Arabia, Spain, Peru, India and South-East Africa.

Rhodes knew all about the old diggings so he engaged
John Hays Hammond, the American engineer, to
accompany him on a trip through Rhodesia in 1894 and
make an investigation of the workings. His report
stated that the rock mines were undoubtedly ancient,
that the greatest skill in mining had been displayed and
that scores of millions of pounds worth of the precious
metal had been extracted. It also proved that practi¬
cally all this treasure had been exported from the coun-

RHODES AND RHODESIA

129

try for no visible traces remain. This substantiates the
theory that perhaps it did go to the Phoenicians or to a
potentate like King Solomon. Hammond wrote the
mining laws of Rhodesia which are an adaptation of the
American code.

The Rhodesian gold mines, which are operated by
the Chartered Company and by individuals, have never
fully realized their promise. One reason, so men like
Hammond tell me, is that they are over-capitalized and
are small and scattered. Despite this handicap the coun¬
try has produced £45,227,791 of gold since 1890. The
output in 1919 was worth £2,500,000. In 1915 it was
nearly £4,000,000.

Small diamonds in varying quantities have also been
found in Rhodesia. In exchange for having subscribed
heavily to the first issue of British South Africa Com¬
pany stock, the DeBeers which Rhodes formed received
a monopoly on the diamond output and with it the assur¬
ance of a rigid enforcement of the so-called Illicit Dia¬
mond Buying Act. This law, more commonly known as
“I. D. B.” and which has figured in many South
African novels, provided drastic punishment for dis¬
honest dealing in the stones. More than one South
African millionaire owed the beginnings of his fortune
to evasion of this law.

Just about the time that Rhodes made the Rhodesian
diamond deal a prospector came to him and said: “If
I bring you a handful of rough diamonds what will I get?”

“Fifteen years,” was the ready retort. He was never
at a loss for an answer.

We can now turn to the really romantic side of the
Rhodesian mineral deposits. One of the favorite pil¬
grimages of the tourist is to the Zimbabwe ruins, located
about seventeen miles from Victoria in Southern Rho-

130

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

desia. They are the remains of an ancient city and must
at various times have been the home of large populations.
There seems little doubt that Zimbabwe was the work of
a prehistoric and long-forgotten people.

Over it hangs a mantle of mystery which the fiction-
ist has employed to full, and at times thrilling advantage.
In this vicinity were the “King Solomon’s Mines/’ that
Rider Haggard wrote about in what is perhaps his
most popular book. Here came “Allan Quartermain”
in pursuit of love and treasure. The big hill at Zim¬
babwe provided the residence of “She,” the lovely and
disappearing lady who had to be obeyed. The ruins in
the valley are supposed to be those of “the Dead City”
in the same romance. The interesting feature of all
this is that “She” and “King Solomon’s Mines” were
written in the early eighties when comparatively nothing
was known of the country. Yet Rider Haggard, with
that instinct which sometimes guides the romancer,
wrote fairly accurate descriptions of the country long
before he had ever heard of its actual existence. Thus
imagination preceded reality.

The imagination miracles disclose in the Haggard
books are surpassed by the actual wonder represented
by Victoria Falls. Everybody has heard of this stu¬
pendous spectacle in Rhodesia but few people see it
because it is so far away. I beheld it on my way from
Bulawayo to the Congo. Like the Grand Canyon of
the Colorado, it baffles description.

The first white man to visit the cataract was Dr.
Livingstone, who named it in honor of his Queen. This
was in 1855. For untold years the natives of the region
had trembled at its fury. They called it Mois-oa-tunga,
which means “Smoke That Sounds.” When you see
the falls you can readily understand why they got this

RHODES AND RHODESIA

131

name. The mist is visible ten miles away and the terrific
roar of the falling waters can be heard even farther.

The fact that the casual traveller can see Victoria
Falls from the train is due entirely to the foresight and
the imagination of Cecil Rhodes. He knew the pub¬
licity value that the cataract would have for Rhodesia
and he combined the utilitarian with his love of the
romantic. In planning the Rhodesian railroad, there¬
fore, he insisted that the bridge across the gorge of the
Zambesi into which the mighty waters flow after their
fall, must be sufficiently near to enable the spray to wet
the railway carriages. The experts said it was impos¬
sible but Rhodes had his way, just as Harriman’s will
prevailed over that of trained engineers in the construc¬
tion of the bridge across Great Salt Lake.

The bridge across the Zambesi is a fit mate in audacity
to the falls themselves. It is the highest in the world
for it rises 400 feet above the low water level. Its main
parabolic arch is a 500 foot span while the total length
is 650 feet. Although its construction was fraught with
contrast hazard it only cost two lives, despite the fact
that seven hundred white men and two thousand natives
were employed on it. In the building of the Firth of
Forth bridge which was much less dangerous, more than
fifty men were killed.

I first saw the Falls in the early morning when the
brilliant African sun was turned full on this sight of
sights. It was at the end of the wet season and the flow
was at maximun strength. The mist was so great that
at first I could scarcely see the Falls. Slowly but de¬
fiantly the foaming face broke through the veil. Niag¬
ara gives you a thrill but this toppling avalanche awes
you into absolute silence.

The Victoria Falls are exactly twice as broad and

132

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

two and one-half times as high as Niagara Falls. This
means that they are over a mile in breadth and four
hundred and twenty feet high. The tremendous flow
has only one small outlet about 100 yards wide. The
roar and turmoil of this world of water as it crashes!
into the chasm sets up what is well called “The Boiling
Pot.” From this swirling melee the Zambesi rushes with
unbridled fury through a narrow and deep gorge, ex¬
tending with many windings for forty miles.

In the presence of this marval, wars, elections, eco¬
nomic upheavals, the high cost of living, prohibition, —
all “that unrest which men miscall delight” — fade into
insignificance. Life itself seems a small and pitiful
thing. You are face to face with a force of Nature that
is titanic, terrifying, and irresistible.

THE GRAVE OF CECIL RHODES

IV

SINCE we bid farewell to Cecil Rhodes in this
chapter after having almost continuously touched
his career from the moment we reached Capetown,
let us make a final measure of his human side, — and he
was intensely human — particularly with reference to
Rhodesia, which is so inseparably associated with him.
His passion for the country that bore his name exceeded
his interest in any of his other undertakings. He liked
the open life of the veldt where he travelled in a sort
of gypsy wagon and camped for the night wherever the
mood dictated. It enabled him to gratify his fondness
for riding and shooting.

He was always accompanied by a remarkable servant
named Tony, a half-breed in whom the Portuguese
strain predominated. Tony bought his master’s clothes,
paid his bills, and was a court of last resort “below
stairs.” Rhodes declared that his man could produce
a satisfactory meal almost out of thin air.

Rhodes and Tony were inseparable. Upon one occa¬
sion Tony accompanied him when he was commanded by
Queen Victoria to lodge at Sandringham. While
there Rhodes asked Tony what time he could get break¬
fast, whereupon the servant replied:

“Royalty does not breakfast, sir, but you can have
it in the dining-room at half past nine.” Tony seemed
to know everything.

Throughout Rhodesia I found many of Rhodes’ old
associates who affectionately referred to him as “The

138

134

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

Old Man.” I was able to collect what seemed to
be some new Rhodes stories. A few have already been
related. Here is another which shows his quickness in
capitalizing a situation.

In the days immediately following the first Matabele
war Rhodes had more trouble with concession-hunters
than with the savages, the Boers, or the Portuguese.
Nearly every free-lance in the territory produced some
fake document to which Lobengula’s alleged mark was
affixed and offered it to Rhodes at an excessive price.

One of these gentry framed a plan by which one of the
many sons of Lobengula was to return to Matabele-
land, claim his royal rights, and create trouble generally.
The whole idea was to start an uprising and derange
the machinery of the British South Africa Company.
The name of the son was N’jube and at the time the
plan was devised he held a place as messenger in the dia¬
mond fields at Kimberley. By the system of intelligence
that he maintained, Rhodes learned of the frame-up, the
whereabouts of the boy, and furthermore, that he was
in love with a Fingo girl. These Fingoes were a sort
of bastard slave people. Marriage into the tribe was a
despised thing, and by a native of royal blood, meant
the abrogation of all his claims to the succession.

Rhodes sent for N’jube and asked him if he wanted to
marry the Fingo girl. When he replied that he did, the
great man said: “Go down to the DeBeers office, get
£50 and marry the girl. I will then give you a job for
life and build you a house.”

N’jube took the hint and the money and married the
girl. Rhodes now sent the following telegram to the
conspirator at Bulawayo:

“Your friend N’jube was divided between love and
empire, but he has decided to marry the Fingo girl.

RHODES AND RHODESIA

135

It is better that he should settle down in Kimberley and
be occupied in creating a family than to plot at Bula¬
wayo to stab you in the stomach.”

This ended the conspiracy, and N’jube lived happily
and peacefully ever afterwards.

Rhodes was an incorrigible imperialist as this story
shows. Upon one occasion at Bulawayo he was discuss¬
ing the Carnegie Library idea with his friend and
associate, Sir Abe Bailey, a leading financial and politi¬
cal figure in the Cape Colony.

“What would you do if you had Carnegie’s money?”
asked Bailey.

“I wouldn’t waste it on libraries,” he replied. “I
would seize a South American Republic and annex it to
the United States.”

Rhodes had great admiration for America. He once
said to Bailey: “The greatest thing in the world would
be the union of the English-speaking people. I wouldn’t
mind if Washington were the capital.” He believed
implicitly in the invincibility of the Anglo-Saxon race,
and he gave his life and his fortune to advance the
British part of it.

For the last I have reserved the experience that will
always rank first in my remembrance of Rhodesia. It
was my visit to the grave of Rhodes. Most people who
go to Rhodesia make this pilgrimage, for in the well-
known tourist language of Mr. Cook, like Victoria
Falls, it is “one of the things to see.” I was animated
by a different motive. I had often read about it and I
longed to view the spot that so eloquently symbolized
the vision and the imagination of the man I admired.

The grave is about twenty-eight miles from Bula¬
wayo, in the heart of the Matopo Hills. You follow the
road along which the body was carried nineteen years

13 6

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

ago. You see the native hut where Rhodes often lived
and in which the remains rested for the night on the
final journey. You pass from the green low-lands to
the bare frontiers of the rocky domain where the Mata-
beles fled after the second war and where the Father
of Rhodesia held his historic parleys with them.

Soon the way becomes so difficult that you must
leave the motor and continue on foot. The Matopos are
a wild and desolate range. It is not until you are well
beyond the granite outposts that there bursts upon you
an immense open area, — a sort of amphitheatre in
which the Druids might have held their weird ritual.
Directly ahead you see a battlement of boulders pro¬
jected by some immemorial upheaval. Intrenched be¬
tween them is the spot where Rhodes rests and which is
marked by a brass plate bearing the words: “Here Lie
the Remains of Cecil John Rhodes.” In his will he
directed that the site be chosen and even wrote the simple
inscription for the cover.

When you stand on this eminence and look out on
the grim, brooding landscape, you not only realize why
Rhodes called it “The View of the World,” but you also
understand why he elected to sleep here. The loneli¬
ness and grandeur of the environment, with its absence
of any sign of human life and habitation, convey that
sense of aloofness which, in a man like Rhodes, is the in¬
evitable penalty that true greatness exacts. The ages
seem to be keeping vigil with his spirit.

For eighteen years Rhodes slept here in solitary state.
In 1920 the remains of Dr. Jameson were placed in a
grave hewn out of the rock and located about one hun¬
dred feet from the spot where his old friend rests. It
is peculiarly fitting that these two men who played such
heroic part in the rise of Rhodesia should repose within
a stone’s throw of each other.

RHODES AND RHODESIA

137

During these last years I have seen some of the great
things. They included the British Grand Fleet in battle
array, Russia at the daybreak of democracy, the long
travail of Verdun and the Somme, the first American
flag on the battlefields of France, Armistice Day amid
the tragedy of war, and all the rest of the panorama that
those momentous days disclosed. But nothing perhaps
was more moving than the silence and majesty that
invested the grave of Cecil Rhodes. Instinctively there
came to my mind the lines about him that Kipling wrote
in “The Burial”:

It is his will that he look forth
Across the world he won —

The granite of the ancient North —

Great spaces washed with sun.

When I reached the bottom of the long incline on my
way out I looked back. The sun was setting and those
sentinel boulders bulked in the dying light. They
seemed to incarnate something of the might and power
of the personality that shaped Rhodesia, and made of it
an annex of Empire.

A KATANGA COPPER MINE

IV — THE CONGO TODAY

I

UNFOLD the map of Africa and you see a huge
yellow area sprawling over the Equator, reach¬
ing down to Rhodesia on the south-east, and
converging to a point on the Atlantic Coast. Equal in
size to all Latin and Teutonic Europe, it is the abode of

6,000 white men and 12,000,000 blacks. No other sec¬
tion of that vast empire of mystery is so packed with
hazard and hardship, nor is any so bound up with
American enterprise. Across it Stanley made his way
in two epic expeditions. Livingstone gave it the glam¬
our of his spiritualizing influence. Fourteen nations
stood sponsor at its birth as a Free State and the whole
world shook with controversay about its administration.
Once the darkest domain of the Dark Continent, it is
still the stronghold of the resisting jungle and the last
frontier of civilization. It is the Belgian Congo.

During these past years the veil has been lifted from
the greater part of Africa. We are familiar with life
and customs in the British, French, and to a certain de¬
gree, the Portuguese and one-time German colonies.
But about the land inseparably associated with the eco¬
nomic statesmanship of King Leopold there still hangs
a shroud of uncertainty as to regime and resource. Few
people go there and its literature, save that which grew
out of the atrocity campaign, is meager and unsatis¬
factory. To the vast majority of persons, therefore,

139

140

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

the country is merely a name — a dab of colour on the
globe. Its very distance lends enchantment and height¬
ens the lure that always lurks in the unknown. What
is it like? What is its place in the universal productive
scheme? What of its future?

I went to the Congo to find out. My journey there
was the logical sequel to my visit to the Union of South
Africa and Rhodesia, which I have already described.
It seemed a pity not to take a plunge into the region
that I had read about in the books of Stanley. In my
childhood I heard him tell the story of some of his
African experiences. The man and his narrative were
unforgettable for he incarnated both the ideal and the
adventure of journalism. Kfe cast the spell of the
Congo River over me and I lingered to see this mother of
waters. Thus it came about that I not only followed
Stanley’s trail through the heart of Equatorial Africa
but spent weeks floating down the historic stream, which
like the rivers that figured in the Great War, has a dis¬
tinct and definite human quality. The Marne, the
Meuse, and the Somme are the Rivers of Valour. The
Congo is the River of Adventure.

In writing, as in everything else, preparedness is all
essential. I learned the value of carrying proper creden¬
tials during the war, when every frontier and police
official constituted himself a stumbling-block to prog¬
ress. For the South African end of my adventure I
provided myself with letters from Lloyd George and
Smuts. In the Congo I realized that I would require
equally powerful agencies to help me on my way.
Wandering through sparsely settled Central Africa with
its millions of natives, scattered white settlements, and
restricted and sometimes primitive means of transport,
was a far different proposition than travelling in the

THE CONGO TODAY

141

Cape Colony, the Transvaal, or Rhodesia, where there
are through trains and habitable hotels.

I knew that in the Congo the State was magic, and
the King’s name one to conjure with. Accordingly, I
obtained what amounted to an order from the Belgian
Colonial Office to all functionaries to help me in every
possible way. This order, I might add, was really a com¬
mand from King Albert, with whom I had an hour’s pri¬
vate audience at Brussels before I sailed. As I sat in the
simple office of the Palace and talked with this shy, tall,
blonde, and really kingly-looking person, I could not
help thinking of the last time I saw him. It was at La
Panne during that terrible winter of 1916-1917, when the
Germans were at the high tide of their success. The
Belgian ruler had taken refuge in this bleak, sea-swept
corner of Belgium and the only part of the country that
had escaped the invader. He lived in a little chalet near
the beach. Every day the King walked up and down
on the sands while German aeroplanes flew overhead
and the roar of the guns at Dixmude smote the ear.
He was then leading what seemed to be a forlorn hope
and he betrayed his anxiety in face and speech. Now I
beheld him fresh and buoyant, and monarch of the only
country in Europe that had really settled down to
work.

King Albert asked me many questions about my trip.
He told me of his own journey through the Congo in
1908 (he was then Prince Albert), when he covered
more than a thousand miles on foot. He said that he
was glad that an American was going to write some¬
thing about the Congo at first hand and he expressed
his keen appreciation of the work of American capital in
his big colony overseas. “I like America and Ameri¬
cans,” he said, “and I hope that your country will not

142

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

forget Europe.” There was a warm clasp of the hand
and I was off on the first lap of the journey that was to
reel off more than twenty-six thousand miles of stren¬
uous travel before I saw my little domicile in New York
again.

Before we invade the Congo let me briefly outline
its history. It can be told in a few words although the
narrative of its exploitations remains a serial without
end. Prior to Stanley’s memorable journey of explo¬
ration across Equatorial Africa which he described in
“Through the Dark Continent,” what is now the Congo
was a blank spot on the map. No white man had trav¬
ersed it. In the fifties Livingstone had opened up part
of the present British East Africa and Nyassaland. In
the Luapula and its tributaries he discovered the head¬
waters of the Congo River and then continued on to
Victoria Falls and Rhodesia. After Stanley found the
famous missionary at Ujiji on Lake Tanganyika in
1872, he returned to Zanzibar. Hence the broad ex¬
panse of Central Africa from Nyassaland westward
practically remained undiscovered until Stanley crossed
it between 1874 and 1877, when he travelled from
Stanley Falls, where the Congo River actually begins,
down its expanse to the sea.

As soon as Stanley’s articles about the Congo began
to appear, King Leopold, who was a shrewd business
man, saw an opportunity for the expansion of his little
country. Under his auspices several International Com¬
mittees dedicated to African study were formed. He
then sent Stanley back to the Congo in 1879, to organize
a string of stations from the ocean up to Stanley Falls,
now Stanleyville. In 1885 the famous Berlin Congress
of Nations, presided over by Bismarck, recognized the
Congo Free State, accepted Leopold as its sovereign.

THE CONGO TODAY

143

and the jungle domain took its place among recognized
governments. The principal purposes animating the
founders were the suppression of the slave trade and
the conversion of the territory into a combined factory
and a market for all the nations. It was largely due
to Belgian initiative that the traffic in human beings
which denuded all Central Africa of its bone and sinew
every year, was brought to an end.

The world is more or less familiar with subsequent
Congo history. In 1904 arose the first protest against
the so-called atrocities perpetrated on the blacks, and
the Congo became the center of an international dis¬
pute that nearly lost Belgium her only colonial posses¬
sion. In the light of the revelations brought about by the
Great War, and to which I have referred in a previous
chapter, it is obvious that a considerable part of this
crusade had its origin in Germany and was fomented
by Germanophiles of the type of Sir Roger Casement,
who was hanged in the Tower of London. During the
World War E. D. Morel, his principal associate in the
atrocity campaign, served a jail sentence in England for
attempting to smuggle a seditious document into an
enemy country.

With the atrocity business we are not concerned.
The only atrocities that I saw in the Congo were the
slaughter of my clothes on the native washboard, usually
a rock, and the American jitney that broke down and
left me stranded in the Kasai jungle. As a matter of
fact, the Belgian rule in the Congo has swung round
to another extreme, for the Negro there has more free¬
dom of movement and less responsibility for action than
in any other African colony. To round out this brief
history, the Congo was ceded to Belgium in 1908 and has
been a Belgian colony ever since.

144

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

We can now go on with the journey. From Bula¬
wayo I travelled northward for three days past Victoria
Falls and Broken Hill, through the undeveloped reaches
of Northern Rhodesia, where you can sometimes see
lion-tracks from the car windows, and where the naked
Barotses emerge from the wilds and stare in big-eyed
wonder at the passing trains. Until recently the tele¬
graph service was considerably impaired by the curi¬
osity of elephants who insisted upon knocking down the
poles.

While I was in South Africa alarming reports were
published about a strike in the Congo and I was afraid
that it would interfere with my journey. This strike
was without doubt one of the most unique in the history
of all labor troubles. The whole Congo administration
“walked out,” when their request for an increase in pay
was refused. The strikers included Government agents,
railway, telegraph and telephone employes, and steam¬
boat captains. Even the one-time cannibals employed
on all public construction quit work. It was a natural
procedure for them. Not a wheel turned; no word
went over the wires; navigation on the rivers ceased.
The country was paralyzed. Happily for me it was
settled before I left Bulawayo.

Late at night I crossed the Congo border and stopped
for the customs at Sakania. At once I realized the
potency that lay in my royal credentials for all traffic
was tied up until I was expedited. I also got the initial
surprise of the many that awaited me in this part of the
world. In the popular mind the Congo is an annex of
the Inferno. I can vouch for the fact that some sections
break all heat records. The air that greeted me, however,
might have been wafted down from Greenland’s icy
mountain, for I was chilled to the bone. In the flicker-

LORD LEVERHULME ROBERT WILLIAMS

THE CONGO TODAY

145

ing light of the station the natives shivered in their
blankets. The atmosphere was anything but tropical
yet I was almost within striking distance of the Equator.
The reason for this frigidity was that I had entered the
confines of the Katanga, the most healthful and highly
developed province of the Congo and a plateau four
thousand feet above sea level.

The next afternoon I arrived at Elizabethville, named
for the Queen of the Belgians, capital of the province,
and center of the copper activity. Here I touched two
significant things. One was the group of American
engineers who have developed the technical side of min¬
ing in the Katanga as elsewhere in the Congo ; the other
was a contact with the industry which produces a con¬
siderable part of the wealth of the Colony.

There is a wide impression that the Congo is entirely
an agricultural country. Although it has unlimited
possibilities in this direction, the reverse, for the moment,
is true. The 900,000 square miles of area (it is eighty-
eight times the size of Belgium) have scarcely been
scraped by the hand of man, although Nature has been
prodigal in her share of the development. Wild rubber,
the gathering of which loosed the storm about King
Leopold’s head, is nearly exhausted because of the one¬
time ruthless harvesting. Cotton and coffee are infant
industries. The principal product of the soil, commer¬
cially, is the fruit of the palm tree and here Nature again
does most of the ground work.

Mining is, in many respects, the chief operation and
the Katanga, which is really one huge mine, principally
copper, is the most prosperous region so far as bulk of
output is concerned. Since this area figures so promi¬
nently in the economic annals of the country it is worth
more than passing attention. Like so many parts of

146

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

Africa, its exploitation is recent. For years after
Livingstone planted the gospel there, it continued to
be the haunt of warlike tribes. The earliest white visi¬
tors observed that the natives wore copper ornaments
and trafficked in a rude St. Andrew’s cross — it was the
coin of the country — fashioned out of metal. When
prospectors came through in the eighties and nineties
they found scores of old copper mines which had been
worked by the aborigines many decades ago. Before
the advent of civilization the Katanga blacks dealt
mainly in slaves and in copper.

The real pioneer of development in the Katanga is
an Englishman, Robert Williams, a friend and col¬
league of Cecil Rhodes, and who constructed, as you
may possibly recall, the link in the Cape-to-Cairo Rail¬
way from Broken Hill in Northern Rhodesia to the
Congo border. He has done for Congo copper what
Lord Leverhulme has accomplished for palm fruit and
Thomas F. Ryan for diamonds. Congo progress is
almost entirely due to alien capital.

Williams, who was born in Aberdeen, Scotland, went
out to Africa in 1881 to take charge of some min¬
ing machinery at one of the Kimberley diamond mines.
Here he met Rhodes and an association began which
continued until the death of the empire builder. On his
death-bed Rhodes asked Williams to continue the Cape-
to-Cairo project. In the acquiescence to this request
the Katanga indirectly owes much of its advance. Thus
the constructive influence of the Colossus of South
Africa extends beyond the British dominions.

In building the Broken Hill Railway Williams was
prompted by two reasons. One was to carry on the
Rhodes project; the other was to link up what he
believed to be a whole new mineral world to the needs of

THE CONGO TODAY

147

man. Nor was he working in the dark. Late in the
nineties he had sent George Grey, a brother of Sir
Edward, now Viscount Grey, through the present
Katanga region on a prospecting expedition. Grey
discovered large deposits of copper and also tin, lead,
iron, coal, platinum, and diamonds. Williams now
organized the company known as the Tanganyika Con¬
cessions, which became the instigator of Congo copper
mining. Subsequently the Union Miniere du Haut
Kantanga was formed by leading Belgian colonial cap¬
italists and the Tanganyika Concessions acquired more
than forty per cent of its capital. The Union Miniere
took over all the concessions and discoveries of the
British corporation. The Union Miniere is now the
leading industrial institution in the Katanga and its
story is really the narrative of a considerable phase of
Congo development.

Within ten years it has grown from a small pros¬
pecting outfit in the wilderness, two hundred and fifty
miles from a railway, to an industry employing at the
time of my visit more than 1,000 white men and 15,000
blacks. It operates four completely equipped mines
which produced nearly 30,000 tons of copper in 1917,
and a smelter with an annual capacity of 40,000 tons
of copper. A concentrator capable of handling 4,000
tons of ore per day is nearing completion. This bust¬
ling industrial community was the second surprise that
the Congo disclosed.

Equally remarkable is the mushroom growth of
Elizabethville, the one wonder town of the Congo. In
1910, when the railway arrived, it was a geographical
expression, — a spot in the jungle dominated by the
huge ant-hills that you find throughout Central Africa,
some of them forty feet high. The white population

148 AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

numbered thirty. I found it a thriving place with over
2,000 whites and 12,000 blacks. There are one third as
many white people in the Katanga Province as in all
the rest of the Congo combined, and its area is scarcely
a fourth of that of the colony.

The father of Elizabethville is General Emile Wan-
germee, one of the picturesque figures in Congo history.
He came out in the early days of the Free State, fought
natives, and played a big part in the settlement of the
country. He has been Governor-General of the Colony,
Vice-Governor-General of the Katanga and is now
Honorary Vice-Governor. In the primitive period he
went about, after the Congo fashion, on a bicycle, in
flannel shirt and leggins and he continued this rough-
and-ready attire when he became a high-placed civil
servant.

Upon one occasion it was announced that the Vice-
Governor of the Katanga would visit Kambove. The
station agent made elaborate preparations for his re¬
ception. Shortly before the time set for his arrival a
man appeared on the platform looking like one of the
many prospectors who frequented the country. The
station agent approached him and said, “You will have
to move on. We are expecting the Vice-Governor of
the Katanga.” The supposed prospector refused to
move and the agent threatened to use force. He was
horrified a few minutes later to find his rough customer
being received by all the functionaries of the district.
Wangermee had arrived ahead of time and had not
bothered to change his clothes.

When I rode in a motor car down Elizabethville’s
broad, electric-lighted avenues and saw smartly-dressed
women on the sidewalks, beheld Belgians playing tennis
on well-laid-out courts on one side, and Englishmen at

THE CONGO TODAY

149

golf on the other, it was difficult to believe that ten
years ago this was the bush. I lunched in comfortable
brick houses and dined at night in a club where every
man wore evening clothes. I kept saying to myself,
“Is this really the Congo?” Everywhere I heard
English spoken. This was due to the large British
interest in the Union Miniere and the presence of so
many American engineers. The Katanga is, with the
exception of certain palm fruit areas, the bulwark of
British interests in the Congo. The American domain
is the Upper Kasai district.

Conspicuous among the Americans at Elizabethville
was Preston K. Horner, who constructed the smelter
plant and who was made General Manager of the Union
Miniere in 1913. He spans the whole period of Katanga
development for he first arrived in 1909. Associated
writh him were various Americans including Frank
Kehew, Superintendent of the smelter, Thomas Carna¬
han, General Superintendent of Mines, Daniel Butner,
Superintendent of the Kambove Mine, the largest of
the Katanga group, Thomas Yale, who is in charge of
the construction of the immense concentration plant at
Likasi, and A. Brooks, Manager of the Western Mine.
For some years A. E. Wheeler, a widely-known Ameri¬
can engineer, has been Consulting Engineer of the
Union Miniere, with Frederick Snow as assistant.
Since my return from Africa Horner has retired as
General Manager and Wheeler has become the ranking
American. Practically all the Yankee experts in the
Katanga are graduates of the Anaconda or Utah Mines.

With Horner I travelled by motor through the whole
Katanga copper belt. I visited, first of all, the famous
Star of the Congo Mine, eight miles from Elizabeth¬
ville, and which was the cornerstone of the entire metal

150

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

development. Next came the immense excavation at
Kambove where I watched American steam shovels,
in charge of Americans, gouging the copper ore out of
the sides of the hills. I saw the huge concentrating
plant rising almost like magic out of the jungle at
Likasi. Here again an American was in control. At
Fungurume I spent the night in a native house in the
heart of one of the loveliest of valleys whose verdant
walls will soon be gashed by shovels and discoloured
with ore oxide. Over all the area the Anglo-Saxon has
laid his galvanizing hand. One reason is that there are
few Belgian engineers of large mining experience. An¬
other is that the American, by common consent, is the
one executive who gets things done in the primitive
places.

I cannot leave the Congo copper empire without re¬
ferring to another Robert Williams achievement which
is not without international significance. Like other
practical men of affairs with colonial experience, he
realized long before the outbreak of the Great War
something of the extent and menace of the German am¬
bition in Africa. As I have previously related, the
Kaiser blocked his scheme to run the Cape-to-Cairo
Railway between Lake Tanganyika and Lake Kivu,
after King Leopold had granted him the concession.
Williams wanted to help Rhodes and he wanted to help
himself. His chief problem was to get the copper from
the Katanga to Europe in the shortest possible time.
Most of it is refined in England and Belgium. At
present it goes out by way of Bulawayo and is shipped
from the port of Beira in Portuguese East Africa.
This involves a journey of 9,514 miles from Kambove
to London. How was this haul to be shortened through
an agency that would be proof against the German in¬
trigue and ingenuity?

A VIEW ON THE KASAI

THE CONGO TODAY

151

Williams cast his eye over Africa. On the West
Coast he spotted Lobito Bay, a land-locked harbour
twenty miles north of Benguella, one of the principal
parts of Angola, a Portuguese colony. From it he ran
a line straight from Kambove across the wilderness
and found that it covered a distance of approximately
1,300 miles. He said to himself, “This is the natural
outlet of the Katanga and the short-cut to England and
Belgium.” He got a concession from the Portuguese
Government and work began. The Germans tried in
every way to block the project for it interfered with
their scheme to “benevolently” assimilate Angola.

At the time of my visit to the Congo three hundred
and twenty miles of the Benguella Railway, as it is
called, had been constructed and a section of one hun¬
dred miles or more was about to be started. The line
will pass through Ruwe, which is an important center
of gold production in the Katanga, and connect up with
the Katanga Railway just north of Kambove. It is
really a link in the Cape-to-Cairo system and when com¬
pleted will shorten the freight haul from the copper
fields to London by three thousand miles, as compared
with the present Biera itinerary.

There is every indication that the Katanga will justify
the early confidence that Williams had in it and become
one of the great copper-producing centers of the world.
Experts with whom I have talked in America believe
that it can in time reach a maximum output of 150,000
tons a year. The ores are of a very high grade and since
the Union Miniere owns more than one hundred mines,
of which only six or seven are partially developed, the
future seems safe.

Copper is only one phase of the Katanga mineral
treasure. Coal, iron, and tin have not only been discov-

152

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

ered in quantity but are being mined commercially. Oil-
shale is plentiful on the Congo River near Ponthierville
and good indications of oil are recorded in other places.
The discovery of oil in Central Africa would have a
great influence on the developent of transportation since
it would supply fuel for steamers, railways, and motor
transport. There is already a big oil production in
Angola and there is little doubt that an important field
awaits development in the Congo.

It is not generally realized that Africa today pro¬
duces the three most valuable of all known minerals in
the largest quantities, or has the biggest potentialities.
The Rand yields more than fifty per cent of the entire
gold supply and ranks as the most valuable of all gold
fields. Ninety-five per cent of the diamond output
comes from the Kimberley and associated mines, Ger¬
man South-West Africa, and the Congo. The Katanga
contains probably the greatest reserve of copper in
existence. N ow you can see why the eye of the universe
is being focused on this region.

II

WHEN I left Elizabeth ville I bade farewell
to the comforts of life. I mean, for ex¬
ample, such things as ice, bath-tubs, and
running water. There is enough water in the Congo
to satisfy the most ardent teetotaler but unfortunately
it does not come out of faucets. Most of it flows in
rivers, but very little of it gets inside the population,
white or otherwise.

Speaking of water brings to mind one of the useful
results of such a trip as mine. Isolation in the African
wilds gives you a new appreciation of what in civiliza¬
tion is regarded as the commonplace things. Take the
simple matter of a hair-cut. There are only two barbers
in the whole Congo. One is at Elizabethville and the
other at Kinshassa, on the Lower Congo, nearly two
thousand miles away. My locks were not shorn for seven
weeks. I had to do what little trimming there was done
with a safety razor and it involved quite an acrobatic
feat. Take shaving. The water in most of the Congo
rivers is dirty and full of germs. More than once I
lathered my face with mineral water out of a bottle.
The Congo River proper is a muddy brown. For
washing purposes it must be treated with a few tablets
of permanganate of potassium which colours it red. It
is like bathing in blood.

Since my journey from Katanga onward was through
the heart of Africa, perhaps it may be worth while to
tell briefly of the equipment required for such an ex-

153

154

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

pedition. Although I travelled for the most part in
the greatest comfort that the Colony afforded, it was
necessary to prepare for any emergency. In the Congo
you must be self-sufficient and absolutely independent
of the country. This means that you carry your own
bed and bedding (usually a folding camp-bed), bath¬
tub, food, medicine-chest, and cooking utensils.

No detail was more essential than the mosquito net
under which I slept every night for nearly four months.
Insects are the bane of Africa. The mosquito carries
malaria, and the tsetse fly is the harbinger of that most
terrible of diseases, sleeping sickness. Judging from
personal experience nearly every conceivable kind of
biting bug infests the Congo. One of the most tena¬
cious and troublesome of the little visitors is the jigger,
which has an uncomfortable habit of seeking a soft
spot under the toe-nail. Once lodged it is extremely
difficult to get him out. These pests are mainly found
in sandy soil and give the Negroes who walk about bare¬
footed unending trouble.

No less destructive is the dazzling sun. Five minutes
exposure to it without a helmet means a prostration
and twenty minutes spells death. Stanley called the
country so inseparably associated with his name “Fatal
Africa,” but he did not mean the death that lay in the
murderous black hand. He had in mind the thousand
and one dangers that beset the stranger who does not
observe the strictest rules of health and diet. From the
moment of arrival the body undergoes an entirely new
experience. Men succumb because they foolishly think
they can continue the habits of civilization. Alcohol
is the curse of all the hot countries. The wise man
never takes a drink until the sun sets and then, if he
continues to be wise, he imbibes only in moderation.

THE CONGO TODAY

155

The morning “peg” and the lunch-time cocktail have
undermined more health in the tropics than all the flies
and mosquitoes combined.

The Duke of Wellington recommended a formula
for India which may well be applied to the Congo. The
doughty old warrior once said:

I know but one recipe for good health in this country, and
that is to live moderately, to drink little or no wine, to use
exercise, to keep the mind employed, and, if possible, to keep
in good humour with the world. The last is the most difficult,
for as you have often observed, there is scarcely a good-
tempered man in India.

If a man will practice moderation in all things, take
five grains of quinine every day, exercise whenever it
is possible, and keep his body clean, he has little to fear
from the ordinary diseases of a country like the Congo.
It is one of the ironies of civilization that after passing
unscathed through all the fever country, I caught a cold
the moment I got back to steam-heat and all the com¬
forts of home.

No one would think of using ordinary luggage in the
Congo. Everything must be packed and conveyed in
metal boxes similar to the uniform cases used by British
officers in Egypt and India. This is because the white
ant is the prize destroyer of property throughout Africa.
He cuts through leather and wood with the same ease
that a Southern Negro’s teeth lacerate watermelon.
Leave a pair of shoes on the ground over night and you
will find them riddled in the morning. These ants eat
away floors and sometimes cause the collapse of houses
by wearing away the wooden supports. Another fre¬
quent guest is the driver ant, which travels in armies
and frequently takes complete possession of a house.

156

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

It destroys all the vermin but the human inmates must
beat a retreat while the process goes on.

Since my return many people have asked me what
books I read in the Congo. The necessity for them was
apparent. I had more than three months of constant
travelling, often alone, and for the most part on small
river boats where there is no deck space for exercise.
Mail arrives irregularly and there were no newspapers.
After one or two days the unceasing panorama of trop¬
ical forests, native villages, and naked savages becomes
monotonous. Even the hippopotami which you see in
large numbers, the omnipresent crocodile, and the occa¬
sional wild elephant, cease to amuse. You are forced to
fall back on that unfailing friend and companion, a
good book.

I therefore carried with me the following books in
handy volume size: — Montaigne’s Essays, Palgrave’s
Golden Treasury of English Verse, Lockhart’s Life of
Napoleon, Autobiography of Cellini, Don Quixote, The
Three Musketeers, Lorna Doone, Prescott’s Conquest
of Mexico and The Conquest of Peru, Les Miserables,
Vanity Fair, Life and Writings of Benjamin Franklin,
Pepys’ Diary, Carlyle’s French Revolution, The Last
of the Mohicans, Westward Ho, Bleak House, The
Pickwick Papers, A Tale of Two Cities, and Tolstoi’s
War and Peace. When these became exhausted I was
hard put for reading matter. At a post on the Kasai
River the only English book I could find was Arnold
Bennett’s The Pretty Lady, which had fallen into
the hands of an official, who was trying to learn English
with it. It certainly gave him a hectic start.

Then, too, there was the eternal servant problem, no
less vexing in that land of servants than elsewhere. I
had cabled to Horner to engage me two personal ser-

A STATION SCENE AT KONGOLA

THE CONGO TODAY

157

vants or “boys” as they are called in Africa. When I
got to Elizabethville I found that he had secured two.
In addition to Swahili, the main native tongue in those
parts, one spoke English and the other French, the offi¬
cial language in the Congo. I did not like the looks of
the English-speaking barbarian so I took a chance on
Number Two, whose name was Gerome. He was a
so-called “educated” native. I was to find from
sad experience that his “education” was largely in the
direction of indolence and inefficiency. I thought that
by having a boy with whom I had to speak French I
could improve my command of the language. Later on
I realized my mistake because my French is a non¬
conductor of profanity.

Gerome had a wife. In the Congo, where all wives
are bought, the consort constitutes the husband’s for¬
tune, being cook, tiller of the ground, beast-of -burden
and slave generally. I had no desire to incumber myself
with this black Venus, so I made Gerome promise that
he would not take her along. I left him behind at
Elizabethville, for I proceeded to Fungurume with
Horner by automobile. He was to follow by train with
my luggage and have the private car, which I had
chartered for the journey to Bukama, ready for me on
my arrival. When I showed up at Fungurume the
first thing I saw was Gerome’s wife, with her ample
proportions swathed in scarlet calico, sunning herself
on the platform of the car. He could not bring himself
to cook his own food although willing enough to cook
mine.

I paid Gerome forty Belgian francs a month, which,
at the rate of exchange then prevailing, was considerably
less than three dollars. I also had to give him a weekly
allowance of five francs (about thirty cents) for his food.

158

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

To the American employer of servants these figures will
be somewhat illuminating and startling.

One more human interest detail before we move on.
In Africa every white man gets a name from the natives.
This appellation usually expresses his chief character¬
istic. The first title fastened on me was “Bwana Cha
Cha,” which means “The Master Who is Quick.”
When I first heard this name I thought it was a reflec¬
tion on my appetite because “Cha Cha ” is pronounced
“Chew Chew.” Subsequently, in the Upper Congo and
the Kasai I was called “Mafutta Mingi ” which means
“Much Fat.” I must explain in self-defense that in the
Congo I ate much more than usual, first because some¬
thing in the atmosphere makes you hungry, and second,
a good appetite is always an indication of health in the
tropics.

Still another name that I bore was “Tala Tala'3 which
means spectacles in practically all the Congo dialects.
There are nearly two hundred tribes and each has a dis¬
tinctive tongue. In many sections that I visited the
natives had never seen a pair of tortoise shell glasses
such as I wear during the day. The children fled from
me shrieking in terror and thinking that I was a sor¬
cerer. Even gifts of food, the one universal passport
to the native heart, failed to calm their fears.

The Congo native, let me add, is a queer character.
The more I saw of him, the greater became my admira¬
tion for King Leopold. In his present state the only
rule must be a strong rule. No one would ever think of
thanking a native for a service. It would be misunder¬
stood because the black man out there mistakes kindness
for weakness. You must be firm but just. Now you
can see why explorers, upon emerging from long stays
in the jungle, appear to be rude and ill-mannered. It is

THE CONGO TODAY

159

simply because they had to be harsh and at times un¬
feeling, and it becomes a habit. Stanley, for example,
was often called a boor and a brute when in reality he
was merely hiding a fine nature behind the armour neces¬
sary to resist native imposition and worse.

Ill

THE private car on which I travelled from
Fungurume to Bukama was my final taste of
luxury. When Horner waved me a good-bye
north I realized that I was divorcing myself from com¬
fort and companionship. In thirty hours I was in sun-
scorched Bukama, the southern rail-head of the Cape-
to-Cairo Route and my real jumping-off place before
plunging into the mysteries of Central Africa.

Here begins the historic Lualaba, which is the initial
link in the almost endless chain of the Congo River.
I at once went aboard the first of the boats which were
to be my habitation intermittently for so many weeks.
It was the “Louis Cousin,” a 150-ton vessel and a fair
example of the draft which provides the principal means
of transportation in the Congo. Practically all transit
not on the hoof, so to speak, in the Colony is by water.
There are more than twelve thousand miles of rivers
navigable for steamers and twice as many more acces¬
sible for canoes and launches. Hence the river-boat is
a staple, and a picturesque one at that.

The “Louis Cousin” was typical of her kind both in
appointment, or rather the lack of it, and human interest
details. Like all her sisters she resembles the small
Ohio River boats that I had seen in my boyhood at
Louisville. All Congo steam craft must be stern-
wheelers, first because they usually haul barges on
either side, and secondly because there are so many sand¬
banks. The few cabins — all you get is the bare room —

160

THE CONGO TODAY

161

are on the upper deck, which is the white man's domain,
while the boiler and freight — human and otherwise —
are on the lower. This is the bailiwick of the black.
These boats always stop at night for wood, the only
fuel, and the natives are compelled to go ashore and sleep
on the bank.

The Congo river-boat is a combination of fortress,
hotel, and menagerie. Like the “accommodation” train
in our own Southern States, it is most obliging because
it will stop anywhere to enable a passenger to get off
and do a little shopping, or permit the captain to take
a meal ashore with a friendly State official yearning for
human society.

The river captain is a versatile individual for he is
steward, doctor, postman, purveyor of news, and dic¬
tator in general. He alone makes the schedule of each
trip, arriving and departing at will. Time in the Congo
counts for naught. It is in truth the land of leisure.
For the man who wants to move fast, water travel is a
nightmare. Accustomed as I was to swift transport, I
spent a year every day.

The skipper of the “Louis Cousin” was no exception
to his kind. He was a big Norwegian named Behn, —
many of his colleagues are Scandinavians, — and he
had spent eighteen years in the Congo. He knew every
one of the thousand nooks, turns, snags and sand-bars
of the Lualaba. One of the first things that impressed
me was the uncanny ingenuity with which all the Congo
boats are navigated through what seems at first glance
to be a mass of vegetation and obstruction.

The bane of traffic is the sand-bar, which on account
of the swift currents everywhere, is an eternally chang¬
ing quantity. Hence a native is constantly engaged
in taking soundings with a long stick. You can hear

162

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

his not unmusical voice, from the moment the boat
starts until she ties up for the night. The native word
for water is “mia” Whenever I heard the cry “mia
mitani ” I knew that we were all right because that
meant five feet of water. With the exception of the
Congo River no boat can draw more than three feet be¬
cause in the dry season even the mightiest of streams
declines to an almost incredibly low level.

My white fellow passengers on the “Louis Cousin”
were mostly Belgians on their way home by way of
Stanleyville and the Congo River, after years of service
in the Colony. We all ate together in the tiny dining
saloon forward with the captain, who usually provides
the “chop,” as it is called. I now made the acquaintance
of goat as an article of food. The young nanny is not
undesirable as an occasional novelty but when she is
served up to you every day, it becomes a trifle mo¬
notonous.

The one rival of the goat in the Congo daily menu is
the chicken, the mainstay of the country. I know a
man who spent six years in the Congo and he kept a
record of every fowl he consumed. When he started
for home the total registered exactly three thousand.
It is no uncommon experience. Occasionally a friendly
hunter brought antelope or buffalo aboard but goat and
fowl, reinforced by tinned goods and an occasional egg,
constituted the bill of fare. You may wonder, perhaps,
that in a country which is a continuous chicken-coop,
there should be a scarcity of eggs. The answer lies in
the fact that during the last few years the natives have
conceived a sudden taste for eggs. Formerly they
were afraid to eat them.

Of course, there was always an abundance of fruit.
You can get pineapples, grape fruit, oranges, bananas

A NATIVE MARKET AT KINDU

THE CONGO TODAY

168

and a first cousin of the cantaloupe, called the pei pei,
which when sprinkled with lime juice is most delicious.
Bananas can be purchased for five cents a bunch of one
hundred. It is about the only cheap thing in the Congo
except servants.

Not all my fellow passengers were desirable compan¬
ions. At Bukana five naked savages, all chained to¬
gether by the neck, were brought aboard in charge of
three native soldiers. When I asked the captain who
and what they were he replied, “They are cannibals.
They ate two of their fellow tribesmen back in the
jungle last week and they are going down the river to
be tried.” These were the first eaters of human flesh
that I saw in the Congo. One conspicious detail was
their teeth which were all filed down to sharp points.
I later discovered that these wolf teeth, as they might be
called, are common to all the Congo cannibals. The
punishment for cannibalism is death, although every
native, whatever his offence, is given a trial by the Bel¬
gian authorities.

So far as employing the white man as an article of diet
is concerned, cannibalism has ceased in the Congo.
Some of the tribes, however, still regard the flesh of their
own kind as the last word in edibles. The practice must
be carried on in secret. To have partaken of the human
body has long been regarded as an act which endows
the consumer with almost supernatural powers. The
cannibal has always justified his procedure in a char¬
acteristic way. When the early explorers and mission¬
aries protested against the barbarous performance
they were invarably met with this reply, “You eat fowl
and goats and we eat men. What is the difference?”
There seems to have been a particular lure in what the
native designated as “food that once talked.”

164

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

In the days when cannibalism was rampant, the liver
of the white man was looked upon as a special delicacy
for the reason that it was supposed to transmit the
knowledge and courage of its former owner. There was
also a tradition that once having eaten the heart of the
white, no harm could come to the barbarian who per¬
formed this amiable act. Although these odious prac¬
tices have practically ceased except in isolated instances,
the Congo native, in boasting of his strength, constantly
speaks of his liver, and not of his heart.

It was on the Lualaba, after the boat had tied up for
the night, that I caught the first whisper of the jungle.
In Africa Nature is in her frankest mood but she ex¬
presses herself in subdued tones. All my life I had
read of the witchery of these equatorial places, but no
description is ever adequate. You must live with them
to catch the magic. No painter, for instance, can trans¬
late to canvas the elusive and ever-changing verdure
of the dense forests under the brilliant tropical sun,
nor can those elements of mystery with their suggestion
of wild bird and beast that lurk everywhere at night,
be reproduced. Life flows on like a moving dream that
is exotic, enervating, yet intoxicating.

Accustomed as I was to dense populations, the lone¬
liness of the Lualaba was weird and haunting. On the
Mississippi, Ohio, and Hudson rivers in America and
on the Seine, the Thames, and the Spree in Europe,
you see congested human life and hear a vast din. In
Africa, and with the possible exception of some parts of
the Nile, Nature reigns with almost undisputed sway.
Settlements appear at rare intervals. You only en¬
counter an occasional native canoe. The steamers fre¬
quently tie up at night at some sand-bank and you fall
asleep invested by an uncanny silence.

THE CONGO TODAY

165

I spent six days on the Lualaba where we made many
stops to take on and put off freight. Many of these
halts were at wood-posts where our supply of fuel was
renewed. At one post I found a lonely Scotch trader
who had been in the Congo fifteen years. Every night
he puts on his kilts and parades through the native
village playing the bagpipes. It is his one touch with
home. At another place I had a brief visit with another
Scotchman, a veteran of the World War, who had
established a prosperous plantation and who goes about
in a khaki kilt, much to the joy of the natives, who see
in his bare knees a kinship with themselves.

At Kabalo I touched the war zone. This post marks
the beginning of the railway that runs eastward to Lake
Tanganyika and which Rhodes included in one of his
Cape-to-Cairo routes. Along this road travelled the
thousands of Congo fighting men on their way to the
scene of hostilities in German East Africa.

When the Great War broke out the Belgian Colonial
Government held that the Berlin Treaty of 1885, en¬
titled “A General Act Relating to Civilization in
Africa” and prohibiting warfare in the Congo basin,
should be enforced. This treaty gave birth to the Congo
Free State and made it an international and peaceful
area under Belgian sovereignty. Following their usual
fashion the Germans looked upon this document as a
“scrap of paper” and attached Lukuga. This forced
the Belgian Congo into the conflict. About 20,000
native troops were mobilized and under the command
of General Tambeur, who is now Vice-Governor Ger-
eral of the Katanga, co-operated with the British
throughout the entire East African campaign. The
Belgians captured Tabora, one of the German strong¬
holds, and helped to clear the Teuton out of the country.

166

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

Lake Tanganyika was the scene of one of the most
brilliant and spectacular naval battles of the war. Two
British motor launches, which were conveyed in sec¬
tions all the way from England, sank a German gunboat
and disabled another, thus purging those waters of the
German. The lake was of great strategic importance
for the transport of food and munitions for the Allied
troops in German East Africa. It is one of the
loveliest inland bodies of water in the world for it is
fringed with wooded heights and is navigable through¬
out its entire length of four hundred miles. Ujiji, on
its eastern shore, is the memorable spot where Stanley
found Livingstone. The house where the illustrious
missionary lived still stands, and is an object of venera¬
tion both for black and white visitors.

From Kabalo I proceeded to Kongolo, where navi¬
gation on the Lualaba temporarily ends. It is the usual
Congo settlement with the official residence of the Com-
missaire of the District, office of the Native Commis¬
sioner, and a dozen stores. It is also the southern rail-
dead of the Chemin de Fer Grands Lacs, which extends
to Stanleyville. Early in the morning I boarded what
looked to me like a toy train, for it was tinier than any
I had ever seen before, and started for Kindu. The
journey occupies two days and traverses a highly
Arabized section.

Back in the days when Tippo Tib, the friend of
Stanley, was king of the Arab slave traders, this area
was his hunting ground. Many of the natives are Mo¬
hammedans and wear turbans and long flowing robes.
Their cleanliness is in sharp contrast with the lack of
sanitary precautions observed by the average unclothed
native. The only blacks who wash every day in the
Congo are those who live on the rivers. The favorite

THE CONGO TODAY

167

method of cleansing in the bush country is to scrape off
a week's or a month's accumulation of mud with a stick
or a piece of glass.

In the Congo the trains, like the boats, stop for the
night. Various causes are responsible for the procedure.
In the early days of railroading elephants and other
wild animals frequently tore up the tracks. Another
contributory reason is that the carriages are only built
for day travel. Native houses are provided for the
traveller at different points on the line. Since everyone
carries his own bed it is easy to establish sleeping
quarters without delay or inconvenience. On this par¬
ticular trip I slept at Malela, in the house ordinarily
occupied by the Chief Engineer of the line. The Min¬
ister of the Colonies had used it the night before and
it was scrupulously clean. I must admit that I have had
greater discomfort in metropolitan hotels.

I was now in the almost absolute domain of the native.
The only white men that I encountered were an occa¬
sional priest and a still more occasional trader. At
Kibombo the train stopped for the mail. When I got
out to stretch my legs I saw a man and a woman who
looked unmistakably American. The man had Texas
written all over him for he was tall and lank and looked
as if he had spent his life on the ranges. He came
toward me smiling and said, “The Minister of the Colo¬
nies was through here yesterday in a special train and
he said that an American journalist was following close
behind, so I came down to see you." The man proved
to be J. G. Campbell, who had come to install an Ameri¬
can cotton gin nine kilometers from where we were
standing. His wife was with him and she was the only
white woman within two hundred miles.

168

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

Campbell is a link with one of the new Congo in¬
dustries, which is cotton cultivation. The whole area
between Kongolo and Stanleyville, three-fourths of
which is one vast tropical forest, has immense stretches
ideally adapted for cotton growing. The Belgian Gov¬
ernment has laid out experimental plantations and they
are thriving. In 1919 four thousand acres were culti¬
vated in the Manyema district, six thousand in the San-
lmru-Kasai region, and six hundred in the Lomami terri¬
tory. Altogether the Colony produced 6,000,000 pounds
of the raw staple in 1920 and some of it was grown by
natives who are being taught the art. The Congo
Cotton Company has been formed at Brussels with a
capitalization of 6,000,000 francs, to exploit the new
industry, which is bound to be an important factor in
the development of the Congo. It shows that the ruth¬
less exploitation of the earlier days is succeeded by
scientific and constructive expansion.

Campbell’s experience in setting up his American
gin discloses the principal need of the Congo today
which is adequate transport. Between its arrival at the
mouth of the Congo River and Kibombo the mass of
machinery was trans-shipped exactly four times, alter¬
nately changing from rail to river. At Kibombo the
550,000 pounds of metal had to be carried on the heads
of natives to the scene of operations. In the Congo
practically every ton of merchandise must be moved by
man power — the average load is sixty pounds —
through the greater part of its journey.

Late in the afternoon of the day which marked the
encounter with the Campbells I reached Kindu, where
navigation on the Lualaba is resumed again. By this
time you will have realized something of the difficulty
of travelling in this part of the world. It was my third

NATIVE FISH TRAPS AT STANLEY FALLS

THE CONGO TODAY

169

change since Bukama and more were to come before I
reached the Lower Congo.

At Kindu I had a rare piece of luck. I fell in with
Louis Franck, the Belgian Minister of the Colonies, to
whom I had a letter of introduction, and who was mak¬
ing a tour of inspection of the Congo. He had landed
at Mombassa, crossed British East Africa, visited the
new Belgian possessions of Urundi and Ruanda which
are spoils of war, and made his way to Kabalo from
Lake Tanganyika. He asked me to accompany him
to Stanleyville as his guest. I gladly accepted because,
aside from the personal compensation afforded by his
society, it meant immunity from worry about the river
and train connections.

Franck represents the new type of Colonial Minister.
Instead of being a musty bureaucrat, as so many are,
he is a live, alert progressive man of affairs who played
a big part in the late war. To begin with, he is one of
the foremost admiralty lawyers of Europe. When the
Germans occupied Belgium he at once became conspic¬
uous. He resisted the Teutonic scheme to separate the
French and Flemish sections of the ravaged country.
After the investment of Antwerp, his native place, ac¬
companied by the Burgomaster and the Spanish Min¬
ister, he went to the German Headquarters and made
the arrangement by which the city was saved from
destruction by bombardment. He delayed this parley
sufficiently to enable the Belgian Army to escape to the
Yser. Subsequently his activities on behalf of his
countrymen made him so distaseful to the Germans that
he was imprisoned in Germany for nearly a year. For
two months of this time he shared the noble exile of
Monsieur Max, the heroic Burgomaster of Brussels.

I now became an annex of what amounted to a royal

170

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

progress. To the Belgian colonial official and to the
native, Franck incarnated a sort of All Highest. In
the Congo all functionaries are called “Bula Matadi,”
which means “The Rock Breaker.” It is the name
originally bestowed on Stanley when he dynamited a
road through the rocks of the Lower Congo. Franck,
however, was a super “Bula Matadi.” We had a
special boat, the “Baron Delbecke,” a one hundred
ton craft somewhat similar to the “Louis Cousin” but
much cleaner, for she had been scrubbed up for the
journey. The Minister, his military aide, secretary and
doctor filled the cabins, so I slept in a tent set up on the
lower deck.

With flags flying and thousands of natives on the
shore yelling and beating tom-toms, we started down
the Lualaba. The country between Kindu and Pon-
thierville, our first objective, is thickly populated and
important settlements dot the banks. Wherever we
stopped the native troops were turned out and there were
long speeches of welcome from the local dignitaries.
Franck shook as many black and white hands as an
American Presidential candidate would in a swing
around the circle. I accompanied him ashore on all
of these state visits and it gave me an excellent oppor¬
tunity to see the many types of natives in their Sunday
clothes, which largely consist of no clothes at all. This
applies especially to the female sex, which in the Congo
reverses Kipling’s theory because they are less deadly
than the male.

At Lowa occurred a significant episode. This place
is the center of an immense native population, but there
is only one white resident, the usual Belgium state offi¬
cial. We climbed the hill to his house, where thirty of
the leading chiefs, wearing the tin medal which the

THE CONGO TODAY

171

Belgian Government gives them, shook hands with the
Minister. The ranking chief, distinguished by the ex¬
traordinary amount of red mud in his wool and the
grotesque devices cut with a knife on his body, made a
long speech in which he became rather excited. When
the agent translated this in French to Franck I gathered
that the people were indignant over the advance in
cost of trade goods, especially salt and calico. Salt is
more valuable than gold in the Congo. Among the
natives it is legal tender for every commodity from a
handkerchief to a wife.

Franck made a little speech in French in reply — it
was translated by the interpreter — in which he said
that the Great War had increased the price of every¬
thing. We shook hands all round and there was much
muttering of “yambo,” the word for “greeting,” and
headed for the boat.

Halfway down the hill we heard shouting and hissing.
We stopped and looked back. On the crest were a
thousand native women, jeering, hooting, and pointing
their fingers at the Minister, who immediately asked the
cause of the demonstration. When the agent called
for an explanation a big black woman said:

“Ask the ‘Bula Matadi’ why the franc buys so little
now? We only get a few goods for a big lot of money.”

I had gone into the wilds to escape from economic
unrest and all the confusion that has followed in its
wake, yet here in the heart of Central Africa, I found
our old friend the High Cost of Living working over¬
time and provoking a spirited protest from primitive
savages ! It proves that there is neither caste, creed nor
colour-line in the pocket-book. Like indigestion, to re¬
peat Mr. Pinero, it is the universal leveller of all ranks.

IV

ON THIS trip Franck outlined to me his whole
colonial creed. It was a gorgeous June morn¬
ing and we had just left a particularly pic¬
turesque Arabized village behind us. Hundreds of na¬
tives had come out to welcome the Minister in canoes.
They sang songs and played their crude musical instru¬
ments as they swept alongside our boat. We now sat
on the upper deck and watched the unending panorama
of palm trees with here and there a clump of grass huts.

“All colonial development is a chain which is no
stronger than its weakest link and that is the native,” said
the Minister. “As you build the native, so do you build
the whole colonial structure. Hence the importance of
a high moral standard. You must conform to the na¬
tive’s traditions, mentality and temperament. Give him
a technical education something like that afforded by
Booker Washington’s Tuskegee Institute. Show him
how to use his hands. He will then become efficient and
therefore contented. It is a mistake to teach him a
European language. I prefer him to be a first-class
African rather than third-class European.

“The hope of the Congo lies in industrialization on
the one hand, and the creation of new wealth on the
other. By new wealth I mean such new crops as cotton
and a larger exploitation of such old products as rice
and palm fruit. Rubber has become a second industry
although the cultivated plantations are in part taking
the place of the old wild forests. The substitute for
rubber as the first product of the land is the fruit of the

172

THE CONGO TODAY

173

oil palm tree. This will be the industrial staple of the
Congo. I believe, however, that in time cotton can be
produced in large commercial quantities over a wide
area.”

Franck now turned to a subject which reflects his
courage and progressiveness. He said, “There is a
strong tendency in other Colonies to give too large a
place to State enterprise. The result of this system
is that officers are burdened with an impossible task.
They must look after the railways, steamers, mills, and
a variety of tasks for which they often lack the tech¬
nical knowledge.

“I have made it a point to give first place to private
enterprise and to transfer those activities formerly under
State rule to autonomous enterprises in which the State
has an interest. They are run by business men along
business lines as business institutions. The State’s prin¬
cipal function in them is to protect the native employes.
The gold mines at Kilo are an example. They are still
owned by the State but are worked by a private com¬
pany whose directors have full powers. The reason
why the State does not part with its ownership of these
mines is that it does not want a rush of gold-seekers.
History has proved that in a country with a primitive
population a gold rush is a dangerous and destructive
thing.

“We are always free traders in Belgium and we are
glad to welcome any foreign capital to the Congo. We
have already had the constructive influence of American
capital in the diamond fields and we will be glad to have
more.”

The average man thinks that the Congo and conces¬
sions are practically synonymous terms. In the Leo¬
pold day this was true but there is a new deal now.
Let Monsieur Franck explain it:

174

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

“There was a time when huge concessions were freely
given in the Congo. They were then necessary because
the Colony was new, the country unknown, and the
financial risk large. Now that the economic possibil¬
ities of the region are realized it is not desirable to grant
any more large concessions. It is proved that these con¬
cessions are really a handicap rather than a help to a
young land. The wise procedure is to have a definite
agricultural or industrial aim in mind, and then pick
the locality for exploitation, whether it is gold, cotton,
copper or palm fruit.”

“What is the future of the Congo?” I asked.

“The Congo is now entering upon a big era of de¬
velopment,” was the answer. “If the Great War had
not intervened it would have been well under way. De¬
spite the invasion of Belgium, the practical paralysis of
our home industry, and the fact that many of our Congo
officials and their most highly trained natives were off
fighting the Germans in East Africa, the Colony more
than held its own during those terrible years. In build¬
ing the new Congo we are going to profit by the example
of other countries and capitalize their knowledge and
experience of tropical hygiene. We propose to combat
sleeping sickness, for example, with an agency similar
to your Rockerfeller Institute of Research in New
York.

“The Congo is bound to become one of the great
centers of the world supply. The Katanga is not only
a huge copper area but it has immense stores of coal,
tin, zinc and other valuable commodities. Our diamond
fields have scarcely been scraped, while the agricultural
possibilities of hundreds of thousands of square miles are
unlimited.

“The great need of the Congo is transport. We are

THE CONGO TODAY

175

increasing our river fleets and we propose to introduce
on them a type of barge similar to that used on the
Ohio and the Mississippi Rivers.

“An imposing program of railway expansion is
blocked out. For one thing we expect to run a railway
from the Katanga copper belt straight across country
to Kinshassa on the Lower Congo. It is already sur¬
veyed. This will tap a thickly populated region and
enable the diamond mines of the Kasai to get the labour
they need so sorely. The Robert Williams railway
through Angola will be another addition to our trans¬
portation facilities. One of the richest regions of the
Congo is the north-eastern section. The gold mines
at Kilo are now only accessible by river. We plan to
join them up with the railway to be built from Stanley¬
ville to the Soudan border. This will link the Congo
River and the Nile. With our railroads as with our in¬
dustrial enterprises, we stick to private ownership and
operation with the State as a partner.

“The new provinces of Ruanda and Urundi will con¬
tribute much to our future prosperity. They add mil¬
lions of acres to our territory and 3,000,000 healthy
and prosperous natives to our population. These new
possessions have two distinct advantages. One is that
they provide an invigorating health resort which will
be to the Central Congo what the Katanga is to the
Southern. The other is that, being an immense cattle
country — there is a head of live stock for every native
— we will be able to secure fresh meat and dairy prod¬
ucts, which are sorely needed.

“The Congo is not only the economic hope of Belgium
but it is teaching the Belgian capitalist to think in
broad terms. Henceforth the business man of all coun¬
tries must regard the universe as his field. As a prac-

176 AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

tical commercial proposition it pays, both with nations
as with individuals. We have found that the possession
of the Congo, huge as it is, and difficult for a country
like ours to develop, is a stimulating thing. It is quick¬
ening our enterprise and widening our world view.”

It would be difficult to find a more practical or com¬
prehensive colonial program. It eliminates that bane
of over-seas administration, red tape, and it puts the
task of empire-building squarely up to the business man
who is the best qualified for the work. I am quite
certain that the advent of Monsieur Franck into office,
and particularly his trip to the Congo, mean the be¬
ginning of an epoch of real and permanent exploitation
in the Congo.

CONGO WOMEN IN STATE DRESS

V — ON THE CONGO RIVER

I

TWO days more of travelling on the Lower
Lualaba brought us to Ponthierville, a jewel
of a post with a setting of almost bewildering
tropical beauty. Here we spent the night on the boat
and early the following morning boarded a special train
for Stanleyville, which is only six hours distant by rail.
Midway we crossed the Equator.

Thirty miles south of Stanleyville is the State Ex¬
perimental Coffee Farm of three hundred acres, which
produces fifteen different species of the bean. This in¬
stitution is one evidence of a comprehensive agricultural
development inaugurated by the Belgian Government.
The State has about 10,000 acres of test plantations,
mostly Para rubber, cotton, and cacao, in various parts
of the Colony.

One commendable object of this work is to instill the
idea of crop -growing among the natives. Under ordi¬
nary circumstances the man of colour in the tropics will
only raise enough maize, manioc, or tobacco for his own
needs. The Belgian idea is to encourage co-operative
farming in the villages. In the region immediately ad¬
jacent to Stanleyville the natives have begun to plant
cotton over a considerable area. At Kongolo I saw hun¬
dreds of acres of this fleecy plant under the sole super¬
vision of the indigenes.

Stanleyville marked one of the real mileposts of my
journey. Here came Stanley on his first historic expe-

177

178

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

dition across Central Africa and discovered the falls
nearby that bear his name ; here he set up the Station
that marked the Farthest East of the expedition which
founded the Congo Free State. Directly south-east of
the town are seven distinct cataracts which extend over
fifty miles of seething whirlpools.

Stanleyville is the head of navigation on the Congo
and like Paris, is built on two sides of the river. On the
right bank is the place of the Vice-Governor General,
scores of well stocked stores, and many desirable resi¬
dences. The streets are long avenues of palm trees.
The left bank is almost entirely given over to the rail¬
way terminals, yards, and repair shops. My original
plan was to live with the Vice-Governor General, Mon¬
sieur de Meulemeester, but his establishment was so
taxed by the demands of the Ministerial party that I
lodged with Monsieur Theews, Chief Engineer of the
Chemin de Fer des Grands Lacs, where I was most
comfortable in a large frame bungalow that commanded
a superb view of the river and the town.

At Stanleyville the Minister of the Colonies had a
great reception. Five hundred native troops looking
very smart were drawn up in the plaza. On the platform
of the station stood the Vice-Governor General and staff
in spotless white uniforms, their breasts ablaze with dec¬
orations. On all sides were thousands of natives in gay
attire who cheered and chanted while the band played
the Belgian national anthem. Over it all waved the
flag of Belgium. It was a stirring spectacle not without
its touch of the barbaric, and a small-scale replica of
what you might have seen at Delhi or Cairo on a fete
day.

I was only mildly interested in all this tumult and
shouting. What concerned me most was the swift.

ON THE CONGO RIVER

179

brown river that flowed almost at our feet. At last I
had reached the masterful Congo, which, with the sole
exception of the Amazon, is the mightiest stream in the
world. As I looked at it I thought of Stanley and his
battles on its shores, and the hardship and tragedy that
these waters had witnessed.

Stanleyville is not only the heart of Equatorial Africa
but it is also an important administrative point. Hun¬
dreds of State officials report to the Vice-Governor
General there, and on national holidays and occasions
like the visit of the Colonial Minister, it can muster a
gay assemblage. Monsieur Franck’s presence inspired
a succession of festivities including a garden party which
was attended by the entire white population numbering
about seventy-five. There was also a formal dinner
where I wore evening clothes for the first and only
time between Elizabethville and the steamer that took
me to Europe three months later.

At the garden party Monsieur Franck made a grace¬
ful speech in which he said that the real missionaries of
African civilization were the wives who accompanied
their husbands to their lonely posts in the field. What he
said made a distinct impression upon me for it was not
only the truth but it emphasized a detail that stands
out in the memory of everyone who visits this part of the
world. I know of no finer heroines than these women
comrades of colonial officials who brave disease and dis¬
comfort to share the lives of their mates. For one thing,
they give the native a new respect for his masters. All
white women in the Congo are called “mamma” by the
natives.

The use of “mamma” by the African natives always
strikes the newcomer as strange. It is a curious fact
that practically the first word uttered by the black in-

180

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

fant is “mamma,” and in thousands of cases the final
utterance of both adult male and female is the same
word. In northern Rhodesia and many parts of the
Congo the native mother frequently refers to her child
as a “piccannin” which is almost the same word em¬
ployed by coloured people in the American South.

Stanleyville’s social prestige is only equalled by her
economic importance. It is one of the great ivory mar¬
kets of the world. During the last two years this
activity has undergone fluctuations that almost put
Wall Street to the blush.

During the war there was very little trafficking in ivory
because it was a luxury. With peace came a big demand
and the price soared to more than 200 francs a kilo.
The ordinary price is about forty. One trader at
Stanleyville cleaned up a profit of 3,000,000 francs in
three months. Then came the inevitable reaction and
with it a unique situation. In their mad desire to corral
ivory the traders ran up the normal price that the native
hunters received. The moment the boom burst the white
buyers sought to regulate their purchases accordingly.
The native, however, knows nothing about the law of
demand and supply and he holds out for the boom price.
The outcome is that hundreds of tons of ivory are piled
up in the villages and no power on earth can convince
the savage that there is such a thing as the ebb and flow
of price. Such is commercial life in the jungle.

Northeast of Stanleyville lie the most important
gold mines in the Colony. The precious metal was dis¬
covered accidentally some years ago in the gravel of
small rivers west of Lake Albert, and near the small
towns of Kilo and Moto. Four mines are now worked
in this vicinity, two by the Government and two by a
private company. At the outbreak of the war this area

ON THE CONGO RIVER

181

was on the verge of considerable development which has
just been resumed. At the time of my visit all these
mines were placers and the operation was rather prim¬
itive. With modern machinery and enlarged white staffs
will come a pretentious exploitation. The Government
mines alone yield more than $2,000,000 worth of gold
every year. Shortly before my arrival in the Congo
what was heralded as the largest gold nugget ever dis¬
covered was found in the Kilo State Mine. It weighed
twelve pounds.

Stanleyville has a significance for me less romantic
but infinitely more practical than the first contact with
the Congo River. After long weeks of suffering from
inefficient service I sacked Gerome and annexed a boy
named Nelson. The way of it was this : In the Katanga
I engaged a young Belgian who was on his way home,
to act as secretary. He knew the native languages and
could always convince the most stubborn black to part
with an egg. Nelson was his servant. He was born
on the Rhodesian border and spoke English. I could
therefore upbraid him to my heart’s content, which was
not the case with Gerome. Besides, he was not handi¬
capped with a wife. In Africa the servants adopt the
names of their masters. Nelson had worked for an
Englishman at Elizabethville and acquired his cogno¬
men. I have not the slightest doubt that he now mas¬
querades under mine. Be that as it may, Nelson was
a model servant and he remained with me until that
September day when I boarded the Belgium-bound
boat at Matadi.

Nelson reminded me more of the Georgia Negro than
any other one that I saw in the Congo. He was almost
coal black, he smiled continuously, and his teeth were
wonderful to look at. He had an unusual capacity for

182

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

work and also for food. I think he was the champion
consumer of chikwanga in the Congo. The chikwanga is
a glutinous dough made from the pounded root of the
manioc plant and is the principal food of the native.
It is rolled and cut up in pieces and then wrapped in
green leaves. The favorite way of preparing it for
consumption is to heat it in palm oil, although it is
often eaten raw. Nelson bought these chikwangas
by the dozen. He was never without one. He even
ate as he washed my clothes.

The Congo native is in a continuous state of recep¬
tivity when it comes to food. Nowhere in the world
have I seen people who ate so much. I have offered
the leavings of a meal to a savage just after he had
apparently gorged himself and he “wolfed” it as if he
were famished. The invariable custom in the Congo
is to have one huge meal a day. On this occasion every
member of the family consumes all the edibles in sight.
Then the crowd lays off until the following day. All
food offered in the meantime by way of gratuity or
otherwise is devoured on the spot.

In connection with the chikwanga is an interesting
fact. The Congo natives all die young — I only saw
a dozen old men — because they are insufficiently
nourished. The chikwanga is filling but not fattening.
This is why sleeping sickness takes such dreadful toll.
From an estimated population of 30,000,000 in Stanley’s
day the indigenes have dwindled to less than one-third
this number. Meat is a luxury. Adthough the natives
have chickens in abundance they seldom eat one for the
reason that it is more profitable to sell them to the white
man.

It is not surprising, therefore, that the Congo native
suffers from ailments. Unlike the average small boy

CENTRAL AFRICAN PYGMIES

ON THE CONGO RIVER

183

of civilization, he delights in taking medicine I suppose
that he regards it as just another form of food. You
hear many amusing stories in connection with medicinal
articles. When you give a savage a dozen effective pills,
for example, and tell him to take one every night, he
usually swallows them all at one time and then he won¬
ders why the results are disastrous. A sorcerer in the
Upper Congo region once obtained what was widely
acclaimed as miraculous results from a red substance
that he got out of a tin. It developed that he had stolen
a can of potted beef and was using it as “medicine.”

Stanleyville was called the center of the old Arab
slave trade. While the odious traffic has long ceased
to exist, you occasionally meet an old native who bears
the scars of battle with the marauders and who can tell
harrowing tales of the cruelties they inflicted.

The slave raiders began their operations in the Congo
in 1877, the same year in which Stanley made his his¬
toric march across Africa from Zanzibar to the north of
the Congo. It was the great explorer who uncon¬
sciously blazed the way for the man-hunters. They
followed him down the Lualaba River as far as Stanley
Falls and discovered what was to them a real human
treasure-trove. For twenty years they blighted the
country, carrying off tens of thousands of men, women
and children and slaughtering thousands in addition.
This region was a cannibal stronghold and one bait that
lured local allies was the promise of the bodies of all
natives slain, for consumption. Belgian pioneers in the
Congo who co-operated with the late Baron Dhanis who
finally put down the slave trade, have told me that it
was no infrequent sight to behold native women going
off to their villages with baskets of human flesh. They
were part of the spoils of this hideous warfare.

184

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

Tippo Tib was lord of this slave-trading domain This
astounding rascal had a distinct personality. He was
a master trader and drove the hardest bargain in all
Africa. Livingstone, Cameron, Stanley and Wiss-
mann all did business with him, for he had a monopoly
on porters and no one could proceed without his help.
He invaribly waited until the white man reached the
limit of his resources and then exacted the highest price,
in true Shylockian fashion.

According to Herbert Ward, the well-known African
artist and explorer, who accompanied Stanley on the
Emin Pasha Relief Expedition, Tippo Tib was some¬
thing of a philosopher. On one occasion Ward spent
the evening with the old Arab. He occupied a wretched
house. Rain dripped in through the roof, rats scuttled
across the floor, and wind shook the walls. When the
Englishman expressed his astonishment that so rich and
powerful a chief should dwell in such a mean abode
Tippo Tib said :

“It is better that I should live in a house like this
because it makes me remember that I am only an or¬
dinary man like others. If I lived in a fine house with
comforts I should perhaps end by thinking too much of
myself.”

Ward also relates another typical story about this
blood-thirsty bandit. A missionary once called him to
account for the frightful barbarities he had perpetrated,
whereupon he received the following reply :

“Ah, yes! You see I was then a young man. Now
my hair is turning gray. I am an old man and shall
have more consideration.”

Until his death in 1907 at Zanzibar, Tippo Tib and
reformation were absolute strangers. He embodied that
combination of cruelity and religious fanaticism so often

ON THE CONGO RIVER

185

found in the Arab. He served his God and the devil
with the same relentless devotion. He incarnated a
type that happily has vanished from the map of Africa.

The region around Stanleyville is rich with historic
interest and association. The great name inseparably
and immortally linked with it is that of Stanley. Al¬
though he found Livingstone, relieved Emin Pasha, first
traversed the Congo River, and sowed the seeds of civil¬
ization throughout the heart of the continent, his great¬
est single achievement, perhaps, was the founding of
the Congo Free State. No other enterprise took such
toll of his essential qualities and especially his genius
for organization.

Stanley is most widely known as an explorer, yet
he was, at the same time, one of the master civilizers.
He felt that his Congo adventure would be incomplete
if he did not make the State a vast productive region
and the home of the white man. He longed to see it
a British possession and it was only after he offered it
twice to England and was twice rebuffed, that he ac¬
cepted the invitation of King Leopold II to organize the
stations under the auspices of the International Afri¬
can Association, which was the first step toward Belgian
sovereignty.

I have talked with many British and Belgian asso¬
ciates of Stanley. Without exception they all acclaim
his sterling virtues both in the physical and spiritual
sense. All agree that he was a hard man. The best
explanation of this so-called hardness is given by Her¬
bert Ward, who once spoke to him about it. Stanley’s
reply was, “You’ve got to be hard. If you’re not hard
you’re weak. There are only two sides to it.”

Stanley always declared that his whole idea of life
and work were embodied in the following maxim : “The

186

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

three M’s are all we need. They are Morals, Mind and
Muscles. These must be cultivated if we wish to be
immortal.” To an astonishing degree he worked and
lived up to these principles.

No explorer, not even Peary in the Arctic wilds, was
ever prey to a larger isolation than this man. In the
midst of the multitude he was alone. He shunned in¬
timacy and one of his mournful reflections was, “I have
had no friend on any expedition, no one who could pos¬
sibly be my companion on an equal footing, except while
with Livingstone.”

I cannot resist the impulse to make comparison be¬
tween those two outstanding Englishmen, Rhodes and
Stanley, whose lives are intimately woven into the fabric
of African romance. They had much in common and
yet they were widely different in purpose and temper¬
ament. Each was an autocrat and brooked no inter¬
ference. Each had the same kindling ideal of British
imperialism. Each suffered abuse at the hands of his
countrymen and lived to witness a triumphant vindi¬
cation.

Stanley had a rare talent for details — he went on the
theory that if you wanted a thing done properly you
must do it yourself — but Rhodes only saw things in a
big way and left the interpretation to subordinates.
Stanley was devoutly religious while Rhodes paid scant
attention to the spiritual side. Each was a dreamer in
his own way and merely regarded money as a means to
an end. Rhodes, however, was far more disdainful of
wealth as such, than Stanley, who received large sums
for his books and lectures. It is only fair to him to say
that he never took pecuniary advantage of the immense
opportunities that his exporations in the Congo afforded.

Still another intrepid Englishman narrowly missed

ON THE CONGO RIVER

187

having a big role in the drama of the Congo. General
Gordon agreed to assume the Governorship of the
Lower Congo under Stanley, who was to be the Chief
Administrator of the Upper Congo. They were to unite
in one grand effort to crush the slave trade. Fate inter¬
vened. Gordon meanwhile was asked by the British
Government to go to Egypt, then in the throes of the
Mahdist uprising. He went to his martyrdom at
Khartoum, and Stanley continued his work alone in
Central Africa.

While Stanley established its most enduring tradi¬
tions, other heroic soldiers and explorers, contributed to
the roll of fame of the Upper Congo region. Conspic¬
uous among them was Captain Deane, an Englishman
who fought the Arab slave traders at Stanley Falls
and who figured in a succession of episodes that read
like the most romantic fiction.

With less than a hundred native troops recruited from
the West Coast of Africa, he defended the State
Station founded by Stanley at the Falls against thou¬
sands of Arab raiders. Most of the caps in his rifle
cartridges were rendered useless by dampness and the
Captain and his second in command, Lieutenant Dubois,
a Belgian officer, fought shoulder to shoulder with his
men in the hand-to-hand struggle that ensued. Sub¬
sequently practically all the natives deserted and Deane
was left with Dubois and four loyal blacks. Under
cover of darkness they escaped from the island on which
the Station was located. On this journey Dubois was
drowned.

For thirty days Deane and his four faithful troopers
wandered through the forests, hiding during the day
from their ferocious pursuers and sleeping in trees at
night. On the thirtieth day he was capured by the

188

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

savages. Unarmed, he sank to the ground overcome
with weariness. A big native stood over him with his
spear poised for the fatal thrust. A moment later the
Englishman was surprised to see his enemy lower the
weapon and grasp him by the hand. He had succored
this savage two years before and had not been forgotten.
Deane and his companions were convoyed under an
escort to Herbert Ward’s camp and he was nursed back
to health.

Deane’s death illustrates the irony that entered into
the passing of so many African adventurers. Twelve
months after he was snatched from the jaws of death on
the banks of the Congo in the manner just described,
he was killed while hunting elephants. A wounded
beast impaled him on a tusk and then mauled him almost
beyond recognition.

II

SINCE Stanleyville is the head of navigation on
the Congo there is ordinarily no lack of boats.
I was fortunate to be able to embark on the
“Comte de Flandre,” the Mauretania of those inland
seas and the most imposing vessel on the river for she
displaced five hundred tons. She flew the flag of the
Huileries du Congo Beige, the palm oil concern founded
by Lord Leverhulme and the most important all-British
commercial interest in the Congo. She was one of a
fleet of ten boats that operate on the Congo, the Kasai,
the Kwilu and other rivers. I not only had a comfort¬
able cabin but the rarest of luxuries in Central Africa,
a regulation bathtub, was available. The “Comte de
Flandre” had cabin accommodations for fourteen
whites. The Captain was an Englishman and the Chief
Engineer a Scotchman.

On this, as on most of the other Congo boats, the food
is provided by the Captain, to whom the passengers pay
a stipulated sum for meals. On the “Comte de Flandre,”
however, the food privilege was owned jointly by the
Captain and the Chief Engineer. The latter did all the
buying and it was almost excruciatingly funny to watch
him driving real Scotch bargains with the natives who
came aboard at the various stops to sell chickens, goats,
and fruit. The engineer could scarcely speak a word of
any of the native languages, but he invariably got over
the fact that the price demanded was too high.

The passenger list of the “Comte de Flandre” in¬
cluded Englishmen, Belgians, Italians, and Portuguese.

189

190

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

I was the only American. The steerage, firemen, and
wood-boys were all blacks. With this international con¬
gress over which beamed the broad smile of Nelson, I
started on the thousand-mile trip down the Congo River.

It is difficult to convey the impression that the Congo
River gives. Serene and majestic, it is often well-nigh
overwhelming in its immensity. Between Stanleyville
and Kinshassa there are four thousand islands, some of
them thirty miles in length. As the boat picks its way
through them you feel as if you were travelling through
an endless tropical park of which the river provides the
paths. It has been well called a “Venice of Vegetation.”
The shores are brilliant with a variegated growth whose
exotic smell is wafted out over the waters. You see
priceless orchids entwined with the mangroves in end¬
less profusion. Behind this verdure stretches the dense
equatorial forest in which Stanley battled years ago in
an almost impenetrable gloom. Aigrettes and birds of
paradise fly on all sides and every hour reveals a hide¬
ous crocodile sunning himself on a sandspit.

Night on the Congo enhances the loneliness that you
from his automobile and the creaky, jolty train started
feel on all the Central African rivers. Although the
settlements are more numerous and larger than those
on the Lualaba and the Kasai, there is the same feeling
of isolation the moment darkness falls. The jungle
seems to be an all-embracing monster who mocks you
with his silence. Joseph Conrad interpreted this atmos¬
phere when he referred to it as having “a stillness of
life that did not resemble peace, — the silence of an
implacable force brooding over an inscrutable intention.”
This is the Congo River.

The more I saw of the Congo River — it is nearly
twice as large as the Mississippi — the more I realized

WOMEN MAKING POTTERY

THE CONGO PICKANINNY

ON THE CONGO RIVER

191

that it is in reality a parent of waters. It has half a
dozen tributaries that range in length from 500 to 1,000
miles each. The most important are the Lualaba and
the Kasai. Others include the Itimbiri, the Aruwimi
and the Mubangi. Scores of smaller streams, many of
them navigable for launches, empty into the main river.
This is why there is such a deep and swift current in
the lower region where the Congo enters the sea.

The astonishing thing about the Congo River is its
inconsistency. Although six miles wide in many parts
it is frequently not more than six feet deep. This makes
navigation dangerous and difficult. As on the Lualaba
and every other river in the Colony, soundings must be
taken continually. This extraordinary discrepancy be¬
tween width and depth reminds me of the designation
of the Platte River in Nebraska by a Kansas statesman
which was, “A river three-quarters of a mile wide and
three-quarters of an inch deep.” Thus the Congo jour¬
ney takes on a constant element of hazard because you
do not know what moment you will run aground on a
sand-bank, be impaled on a snag, or strike a rock.

Although the “Comte de Flandre” was rated as the
fastest craft on the Congo our progress was unusually
slow because of the scarcity of wood for fuel. This
seems incredible when you consider that the whole Congo
Basin is one vast forest. Millions of trees stand ready
to be sacrified to the needs of man, yet there are no
hands to cut them. In the Congo, as throughout this
distracted world, the will-to-work is a lost art, no less
manifest among the savages than among their civilized
brothers. The ordinary native will only labour long
enough to provide himself with sufficient money to buy
a month’s supply of food. Then he quits and joins the
leisure class. Hence wood-hunting on the Congo vies

192

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

with the trip itself as a real adventure. The competition
between river captains for fuel is so keen that a skipper
will sometimes start his boat at three o’clock in the morn¬
ing and risk an accident in the dark in order to beat a
rival to a wood supply.

All up and down the river are wood-posts. Most of
them are owned by the steamship companies. It was
our misfortune to find most of them practically stripped
of their supplies. A journey which ordinarily takes
twelve days consumed twenty. But there were many
compensations and I had no quarrel with the circum¬
stance :

I had the good fortune to witness that rarest of sights
that falls to the lot of the casual traveller — a serious
fight between natives. We stopped at a native wood-
post — (some of them are operated by the occasionally
industrious blacks) — for fuel. The whole village
turned out to help load the logs. In the midst of the
process a crowd of natives made their appearance, armed
with spears and shields. They began to taunt the men
and women who were loading our boat. I afterwards
learned that they owned a wood-post nearby and were
disgruntled because we had not patronized them. They
blamed their neighbours for it. Almost before we
realized it a pitched battle was in progress in which
spears were thrown and men and women were laid out
in a generally bloody fracas. One man got an assegai
through his throat and it probably inflicted a fatal
wound.

In the midst of the melee one of my fellow passengers,
a Catholic priest named Father Brandsma, coura¬
geously dashed in between the flying spears and logs of
wood and separated the combatants. This incident shows
the hostility that still exists between the various tribes in

ON THE CONGO RIVER

193

the Congo. It constitutes one excellent reason why
there can never be any concerted uprising against the
whites. There is no single, strong, cohesive native
dynasty.

Father Brandsma was one of the finest men I met in
the Congo. He was a member of the society of priests
which has its headquarters at Mill Hill in England. He
came aboard the boat late one night when we were tied
up at Bumba, having ridden a hundred miles on his
bicycle along the native trails. We met the following
morning in the dining saloon. I sat at a table writing
letters and he took a seat nearby and started to make
some notes in a book. When we finished I addressed
him in French. He answered in flawless English. He
then told me that he had spent fifteen years in Uguanda,
where he was at the head of the Catholic Missions.

The Father was in his fifth year of service in the
Congo and his analysis of the native situation was accu¬
rate and convincing. Among other things he said, “The
great task of the Colonial Government is to provide
labour for the people. In many localities only one
native out of a hundred works. This idleness must be
stopped and the only way to stop it is to initiate high¬
way and other improvements, so as to recruit a large
part of the native population.”

Father Brandsma is devoting some of his energy to
a change in copal gathering. This substance, which is
found at the roots of trees in swampy and therefore
unhealthy country, is employed in the manufacture of
varnish. To harvest it the natives stand all day in water
up to their hips and they catch the inevitable colds from
which pneumonia develops. Copal gathering is a con¬
siderable source of income for many tribes and usually
the entire community treks to the marshes. In this

194

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

way the lives of the women and children are also
menaced. The Father believes that only the men
should go forth at certain periods for this work and leave
their families behind.

Father Brandsma was the central actor in a pictur¬
esque scene. One Sunday morning I heard a weird
chanting and I arose to discover the cause. I found that
the priest was celebrating mass for the natives on the
main deck of the boat. Dawn had just broken, and on
the improvised altar several candles gleamed in the
half light. In his vestments the priest was a striking
figure. All about him knelt the score of naked savages
who made up the congregation. They crossed them¬
selves constantly and made the usual responses. I must
confess that the ceremony was strangely moving and
impressive.

As soon as I reached the Congo River I saw that the
natives were bigger and stronger than those of the
Katanga and other sections that I had visited. The most
important of the river tribes are the Bangalas, who are
magnificent specimens of manhood. In Stanley’s day
they were masters of a considerable portion of the
Upper Congo River region and contested his way skil¬
fully and bitterly. They are more peacefully inclined
today and hundreds of them are employed as wood-boys
and firemen on the river boats.

The Bangalas practice cicatrization to an elaborate
extent. This process consists of opening a portion of
the flesh with a knife, injecting an irritating juice into
the wound, and allowing the place to swell. The effect
is to raise a lump or weal. Some of these excrescences
are tiny bumps and others develop into large welts
that disfigure the anatomy. Extraordinary designs are
literally carved on the faces and bodies of the men and

ON THE CONGO RIVER

195

women. Although it is an intensely painful operation,
— some of the wounds must be opened many times —
the native submits to it with pleasure because the more
ornate the design the more resplendant the wearer feels.
The women are usually more liberally marked than the
men.

Cicatrization is popular in various parts of Central
Africa but nowhere to the degree that it prevails on the
Congo River and among the Bangalas, where it is a
tribal mark. I observed women whose entire bodies
from the ankles up to the head were one mass of
cicatrized designs. One of the favorite areas is the
stomach. This is just another argument against clothes.
Cicatrization bears the same relation to the African
native that tattooing does to the whites of some sections.
Human vanity works in mysterious ways to express
itself.

In this connection it is perhaps worth while to point
out one of the reasons why the Congo atrocity exhorters
found such ready exhibits for their arguments. The
Central African native delights in disfigurement not
only as a sign of “beauty/5 but as a means of retaliation
for real or fancied wrongs among his own. In the old
days dozens of slaves, and sometimes wives, were sacri¬
ficed upon the death of an important chief. Their
spirits were supposed to provide a bodyguard to escort
the departed potentate safely into the land of the here¬
after. One of the former prerogatives of a husband
was the sanction to chop off the hand or foot of a wife
if she offended or disobeyed him. Hence Central Africa
abounded in mutilated men, women and children. While
some of these barbarities may have been due to excessive
zeal or temper in State or corporation officials there is
no doubt that many instances were the result of native
practices.

196

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

The reference to cicatrization brings to mind another
distinctive Central African observance. I refer to the
ceremony of blood brotherhood. When two men, who
have been enemies, desire to make the peace and swear
eternal amity, they make a small incision in one of their
forearms sufficiently deep to cause the flow of blood.
Each then licks the blood from the other’s arm and
henceforth they are related as brothers. This perform¬
ance was not only common among the blacks but was
also practiced by the whites and the blacks the moment
civilization entered the wild domains. Stanley’s arms
were one mass of scars as the result of swearing con¬
stant blood brotherhood. It became such a nuisance and
at the same time developed into such a serious menace
to his health, that the rite had to be amended. Instead
of licking the blood the comrades now merely rub the in¬
cisions together on the few occasions nowadays when
fealty is sworn. I am glad to say that I escaped the
ordeal.

Much to my regret I saw only a few of the much-de¬
scribed pygmies who dwelt mainly in the regions north¬
east of Stanleyville, where Stanley first met them. They
are all under three feet in height, are light brown in
colour, and wear no garments when on their native
heath. They are the shyest of all the tribes I en¬
countered. These diminutive creatures seldom enter
the service of the white man and prefer the wild life of
the jungle. I was informed in the Congo that the real
pygmy is fast disappearing from the map. Intermar¬
riage with other tribes, and settlement into more or less
permanent villages, have increased the height of the
present generation and helped to remove one of the last
human links with Stanley’s great day.

The Congo River native is perhaps the shrewdest in

ON THE CONGO RIVER

197

all Central Africa. He is a born trader, and he can
convert the conventional shoe-string into something
worth while. One reason why the Bangalas take posi¬
tions as firemen and woodboys on the river boats is that
it enables them to go into business. The price of food at
the small settlements up river is much less than at
Kinshassa, where navigation from Stanleyville south¬
ward ends. Hence the blacks acquire considerable
stores of palm oil and dried fish at the various stops
made by the steamers and dispose of it with large profit
when they reach the end of the journey. I have in
mind the experience of a capita on the 4 'Comte de
Flandre.” When we left Stanleyville his cash capital
was thirty-five francs. With this he purchased a suffi¬
cient quantity of food, which included dozens of pieces
of claikwanga, to realize two hundred and twenty francs
at Kinshassa.

These river natives are genuine profiteers. They
invariably make it a rule to charge the white man three
or four times the price they exact from their own kind.
No white man ever thinks of buying anything himself.
He always sends one of his servants. As soon as the
vendor knows that the servant is in the white employ
he shoves up the price. I discovered this state of affairs
as soon as I started down the Lualaba. In my innocence
I paid two francs for a bunch of bananas. The moment
I had closed the deal I observed larger and better
bunches being purchased by natives for fifty centimes.

This business of profiteering by the natives is no new
phase of life in the Congo. Stanley discovered it to his
cost. Sir Harry Johnston, the distinguished explorer
and administrator, who added to his achievements during
these past years by displaying skill and brilliancy as a
novelist, tells a characteristic story that throws light on

198

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

the subject. It deals with one of the experiences of
George Grenfell, the eminent British missionary who
gave thirty years of his unselfish life to work in the
Congo. On one of his trips he noticed the corpse of a
woman hanging from the branches of a tree over the
water of the great river. At first he thought that she had
been executed as a punishment for adultery, one of the
most serious crimes in the native calendar. On investi¬
gation he found that she had been guilty of a much more
serious offense. A law had been imposed that all goods,
especially food, must be sold to the white man at a far
higher price than the local market value. This unhappy
woman had only doubled the quotation for eggs, had
been convicted of breaking the code, and had suffered
death in consequence.

Since I have referred to adultery, let me point out
a situation that does not reflect particular credit on so-
called civilization. Before the white man came to
Africa chastity was held in deepest reverence. The
usual punishment for infidelity was death. Some of the
early white men were more or less promiscuous and set
a bad moral example with regard to the women. The
native believed that in this respect “the white man can
do no wrong” and the inevitable laxity resulted. When
a woman deserts her husband now all she gets is a
sound beating. If a man elopes with the wife of a
friend, he is haled before a magistrate and fined.

THE HEART OF THE EQUATORIAL FOREST

Ill

ON THE Congo I got my first glimpse of the
native fashion in mourning. It is a survival
of the biblical “sackcloth and ashes.” As soon
as a death occurs all the members of the family smear
their faces and bodies with ashes or dirt. Even the
babies show these rude symbols of woe. It gives the
person thus adorned a weird and ghastly appearance.
When ashes and dust are not available for this purpose,
a substitute is found in filthy mud. The mourner is not
permitted to wash throughout the entire period of grief,
which ranges from thirty to ninety days.

Like the Southern Negro in America these African
natives are not only born actors but have a keen sense of
humour. They are quick to imitate the white man. If
a Georgia darkey, for example, wants to abuse a mem¬
ber of his own race he delights to call him “a fool
nigger.” It is the last word in reproach. In the Congo
when a native desires to express contempt for his fel¬
low, he refers to him as a basingi , which means bush-
man. It is a case of the pot calling the kettle black.

Up the Kasai I heard a story that admirably illus¬
trates the native humour. A Belgian official much in¬
clined to corpulency came out to take charge of a
post. After the usual fashion, he received a native name
the moment he arrived. It is not surprising that he be¬
came known as Mafutta Mingi. As soon as he learned
what it meant he became indignant. Like most fat men
he could not persuade himself that he was fat. He

199

200

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

demanded that he be given another title, whereupon the
local chief solemnly dubbed him Kiboko . The official
was immediately appeased. He noticed that a broad
smile invariably illumined the countenance of the person
who addressed him in this way. On investigation he
discovered that the word meant hippopotamus.

The Congo native delights in argument. Here you
get another parallel with his American brother. A
Bangala, for example, will talk for a week about five
centimes. One day at Dima I heard a terrific shouting
and exhorting down at the native market which is held
twice a week. I was certain that someone was being
murdered. When I arrived on the scene I saw a hun¬
dred men and women gesticulating wildly and in a
great state of excitement. I learned that the wife of
a wood-boy on a boat had either secreted or sold a scrap
of soap, and her husband was not only berating her with
his tongue but telling the whole community about it.

The chief function of most Belgian officials in the
Congo is to preside at what is technically known as a
“palaver.” This word means conference but it actually
develops into a free-for-all riotous protestation by the
natives involved. They all want to talk at the same
time and it is like an Irish debating society. Years ago
each village had a “palaver ground,” where the chief
sat in solemn judgment on the disputes of his henchmen.
Now the “palavers” are held before Government offi¬
cers. Most of the “palavers” that I heard related to
elopements. No matter how grievous was the offense
of the male he invariably shifted the entire responsibility
to the woman. He was merely emulating the ways of
civilization.

Between Stanleyville and Kinshassa we not only
stopped every night according to custom, but halted at

ON THE CONGO RIVER

201

not less than a dozen settlements to take on or deliver
cargo. These stations resemble each other in that they
are mainly a cluster of stores owned or operated by
agents of various trading companies. Practically every
post in the Congo has, in addition, a shop owned by a
Portuguese. You find these traders everywhere. They
have something of the spirit of adventure and the hardi¬
hood of their doughty ancestors who planted the flag
of Portugal on the high sease back in that era when the
little kingdom was a world power.

Some of them have been in the Congo for fifteen and
twenty years without ever stirring outside its confines.
On the steamer that took me to Europe from the Congo
was a Portuguese who had lived in the bush for twenty-
two years. When he got on the big steamer he was
frightened at the noise and practically remained in his
cabin throughout the entire voyage. As we neared
France he told me that if he had realized beforehand the
terror and tumult of the civilization that he had for¬
gotten, he never would have departed from his jungle
home. He was as shy as a wild animal.

One settlement, Basoko, has a tragic meaning for the
Anglo-Saxon. Here died and lies buried, the gallant
Grenfell. I doubt if exploration anywhere revealed a
nobler character than this Baptist minister whose career
has been so adequately presented by Sir Harry
Johnston, and who ranks with Stanley and Livingstone
as one of the foremost of African explorers. In the
Congo evangelization has been fraught with a truly
noble fortitude. When you see the handicaps that have
beset both Catholic and Protestant missionaries you are
filled with a new appreciation of their calling.

The most important stop of this trip was at Coquil-
hatville, named in honor of Captain Coquilhat, one of

202

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

the most courageous of the early Belgian soldier-ex*
plorers. It was the original Equatorville (it is at the
point where the Equator cuts the Congo), founded by
Stanley when he established the series of stations under
the auspices of the International African Association.
Here dwells the Vice-Governor of the Equatorial Prov¬
ince. Near by is a botanical garden maintained by the
Colonial Government and which contains specimens of
all the flora of Central Africa.

At Coquilhatville I saw the first horse since I left
Rhodesia and it was a distinct event. Except in the
Kasai region it is impossible to maintain live stock in
the Congo. The tsetse fly is the devastating agency.
Apparently the only beasts able to withstand this
scourge are goats and dogs. The few white men who
live in Coquilhatville have been able to maintain five
horses which are used by the so-called Riding Club.
These animals provide the only exercise at the post.
They are owned and ridden by the handful of English¬
men there. A man must drive himself to indulge in any
form of outdoor sport along the equator. The climate is
more or less enervating and it takes real Anglo-Saxon
energy to resist the lure of the siesta or to remain in bed
as long as possible.

Bolobo is a reminder of Stanley. He had more
trouble here than at any of the many stations he set up
in the Congo Free State in the early eighties. The
natives were hostile, the men he left in charge proved to
be inefficient, and on two occasions the settlement was
burned to the ground. Today it is the seat of one of
the largest and most prosperous of all the English
Baptist Congo missions and is presided over by a Congo
veteran, Dr. Stonelake. One feature of the work here
is a manual training school for natives, who manufacture

ON THE CONGO RIVER 203

the same kind of wicker chairs that the tourist buys at
Madeira.

The farther I travelled in the Congo the more deeply
I became interested in the native habits and customs.
Although cluttered with ignorance and superstition the
barbaric mind is strangely productive of a rude philoso¬
phy which is expressed in a quaint folklore. Seasoned
Congo travellers like Grenfell, Stanley, Ward, and
Johnston have all recorded fascinating local legends.
I heard many of these tales myself and I shall en¬
deavour to relate the best.

Some of the most characteristic stories deal with
the origin of death. Here is a Bangala tradition gath¬
ered by Grenfell and which runs as follows:

The natives say that in the beginning men and women
did not die. That one day, Nza Komba (God) came bringing
two gifts, a large and a small one. If they chose the smaller
one they would continue to live, but if the larger one, they
would for a time enjoy much greater wealth, but they
would afterwards die. The men said they must consider the
matter, and went away to drink water, as the Kongos say.
While they were discussing the matter the women took the
larger gift, and Nza Komba went back with the little one.
He has never been seen since, though they cried and cried for
Him to come back and take the big bundle and give them
the little one, and with it immortality.

The Baluba version of the great mystery is set forth
in this way:

God ( Kabezya-unpungu ) created the sun, moon, and
stars, then the world, and later the plants and animals.
When all this was finished He placed a man and two women
in the world and taught them the name and use of all things.
He gave an axe and a knife to the man, and taught him to
2ut wood, weave stuffs, melt iron, and to hunt and fish. To

204

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

the women he gave a pickaxe and a knife. He taught both
of them to till the ground, make pottery, weave baskets, make
oil, — that is to say, all that custom assigns to them to-day.

These first inhabitants of the earth lived happily for a
long time until one of the women began to grow old. God,
foreseeing this, had given her the gift of rejuvenating her¬
self, and the faculty, if she once succeeded, of preserving the
gift for herself and for all mankind. Unfortunately, she
speedily lost the precious treasure and introduced death into
the world.

This is how the misfortune occurred: Seeing herself all
withered, the woman took the fan with which her companion
had been winnowing maize for the manufacture of beer and
shut herself into her hut, carefully closing the door. There
she began to tear off her old skin, throwing it on the fan.
The skin came off easily, a new one appearing in its place.
The operation was nearing completion. There remained the
head and neck only when her companion came to the hut to
fetch her fan and before the old woman could speak, pushed
open the door. The almost rejuvenated woman fell dead
instantly.

This is the reason we all die. The two survivors gave birth
to a number of sons and daughters, from whom all races have
descended. Since that time God does not trouble about His
creatures. He is satisfied with visiting them incognito now and
again. Wherever He passes the ground sinks. He injures
no one. It is therefore superfluous to honour him, so the
Balubas offer no worship to Him.

The animal story has a high place in the legends of
these peoples. They represent a combination of Kip¬
ling’s Jungle Book, Aesop’s Fables, and Br’er Rabbit.
Nor do they fail to point a moral. Naturally, the ele¬
phant is a conspicuous feature in most of them. The
tale of “The Elephant and the Shrew” will illustrate.
Here it is :

NATIVES PILING WOOD

A WOOD POST ON THE CONGO

"

ON THE CONGO RIVER

205

One day the elephant met the shrew mouse on his road.
“Out of the way,” cried the latter. “I am the bigger, and
it is your place to look out,” replied the monster. “Curse
you!” retorted the shrew mouse furiously. “May the long
grass cut your legs !” “And may you meet your death when
you walk in the road!” replied the other crushing him under
his huge foot. Both curses have been fulfilled. From that day
the elephant wounds himself when he goes through the long
grass, and the shrew-mouse meets her death when she crosses
the road.

The story of the elephant and the chameleon is equally
interesting. One day the chameleon challenged the
elephant to a race. The latter accepted the challenge
and a meeting was arranged for the following morning.
During the night the chameleon placed all his
brothers from point to point along the length of the
track where the race was to be run. When day came the
elephant started. The chameleon quickly slipped be¬
hind without the elephant noticing. “Are you not
tired?” asked the monster of the first chameleon he met.
“Not at all,” he replied, executing the same manoeuvre
as the former. This stratagem was renewed so many
times that the elephant, tired out, gave up the contest
and confessed himself beaten.

In the wilds, as in civilization, the relation between
husband and wife, and more especially the downfall of
the autocrat of the home, is a favorite subject for jest.
From the northeastern corner of the Congo comes this
illuminating story:

A man had two wives, one gentle and prepossessing, the
other such a gossip that he was often made angry. Neither
remonstrances nor beating improved her, and finally he made
up his mind to drive her into a wood amongst the hyenas.
There she built herself a little hut into which a hyena came

206

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

and boldly installed herself as mistress. The wife tried to
protest but the hyena, not content with eating and drinking
all that the wife was preparing, compelled her furthermore to
look after her young. One day the hyena had ordered the
woman to boil some water. While waiting the wife had the
sudden idea of seizing the young hyenas and throwing them
into the boiling water. She did this and then she ran trembling
to take refuge in the home of her husband whom she found
calmly seated at the entrance of the house, spear in hand.
She threw herself at the feet of her spouse, beseeching him for
help and protection. When the hyena arrived foaming with
rage her husband stretched it dead on the ground with a blow
of his spear. The lesson was not lost on the wife. From that
day forth she became the joy and delight of her husband.

The Congo can ever reproduce its own version of the
fable of “The Goose that Laid the Golden Egg.” It is
somewhat primitive but serves the same purpose. As
told to the naked piccaninnies by the flickering camp¬
fires it runs thus:

Four fools owned a chicken which laid blue glass beads in¬
stead of eggs. A quarrel arose concerning the ownership of
the fowl. The bird was subsequently killed and divided into
four equal portions. The spring of their good fortune dried
up.

To understand the significance of the story it must
be understood that for many years beads have been one
of the forms of currency in Central Africa. Formerly
they were as important a detail in the purchase of a wife
as copper and calico. The first piece of attire, if it may
be designated by this name, that adorns the native baby
after its entrance into the world is an anklet of blue
beads. Later a strand of beads is placed round its loins.

When you have heard such stories as I have just re-

ON THE CONGO RIVER

207

lated, you realize that despite his ignorance, appetite,
and indolence, the Congo native has some desirable
qualities. He is shiftless but not without human in¬
stincts. Nowhere are they better expressed than in
his folklore.

IV

TWO STOPS on the Congo River deserve
special attention. In the Congo there began in
1911 an industry that will have an important
bearing on the economic development of the Colony. It
was the installation of the first plant of the Huileries du
Congo Beige. This Company, which is an offshoot of the
many Lever enterprises of England, resulted from the
growing need of palm oil as a substitute for animal fat in
soap-making. Lord Leverhulme, who was then Sir
William Lever, obtained a concession for considerably
more than a million acres of palm forests in the Congo.
He began to open up so-called areas and install mills
for boiling the fruit and drying the kernels. He now
has eight areas, and two of them, Elizabetha and
Alberta, — I visited both — are on the Congo River.

For hundreds of years the natives have gathered the
palm fruit and extracted the oil. Under their method
of manufacture the waste was enormous. The blacks
threw away the kernel because they were unaware of
the valuable substance inside. Lord Leverhulme was
the first to organize the industry on a big and scientific
basis and it has justified his confidence and expenditure.

Most people are familiar with the date and the cocoa-
nut palms. From the days of the Bible they have
figured in narrative and picture. The oil palm, on the
other hand, is less known but much more valuable. It
is the staff of life in the Congo and for that matter,
practically all West Africa. Thousands of years ago

208

ON THE CONGO RIVER

209

its sap was used by the Egyptians for embalming the
bodies of their kingly dead. Today it not only repre¬
sents the most important agricultural industry of the
Colony, having long since surpassed rubber as the
premier product, but it has an almost bewildering
variety of uses. It is food, drink and shelter. Out of
the trunk the native extracts his wine; from the fruit,
and this includes the kernel, are obtained oil for soap,
salad dressing and margarine; the leaves provide a
roof for the native houses; the fibre is made into mats,
baskets or strings for fishing nets, while the wood goes
into construction. Even the bugs that live on it are food
for men.

The “H. C. B.” as the Huileries du Congo Beige is
more commonly known in the Congo, really performed
a courageous act in exploitation when it set up shop in
the remote regions and devoted itself to an absolutely
fresh enterprise, so far as extensive development is con¬
cerned, at a time when the rich and profitable products
of the country were rubber, ivory and copal. The com¬
pany’s initiative, therefore, instigated the trade in
oleaginous products which is so conspicuous in the
economic life of the country.

The installation at Alberta, while not so large as the
Leverville area on the Kwilu River, will serve to show
just what the corporation is doing. Five years ago this
region was the jungle. Today it is the model settlement
on the Congo River. The big brick office building
stands on a brow of the hill overlooking the water. Not
far away is the large mill where the palm fruit is reduced
to oil and the kernels dried. Stretching away from the
river is a long avenue of palms, flanked by the com¬
modious brick bungalows of the white employes. The
“H. C. B.” maintains a store at each of its areas, where

210

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

food and supplies are bought by the personnel. These
stores are all operated by the Societe d’Entreprises
Commerciales au Congo Beige, known locally under the
name of “Sedec,” formed as its name indicated, with a
view of benefiting by the great resources opened to
commerce in the Colony.

For miles in every direction the Company has laid
out extensive palm plantations. In the Alberta region
twenty-five hundred acres are in course of cultivation
in what is known as the Eastern Development, while
sixteen hundred more acres are embodied in the Western
development. An oil palm will bear fruit within seven
years after the young tree is planted. The fruit comes
in what is called a regime , which resembles a huge bunch
of grapes. It is a thick cluster of palm fruit. Each
fruit is about the size of a large date. The outer por¬
tion, the pericarp, is almost entirely yellow oil incased
in a thick skin. Imbedded in this oil is the kernel, which
contains an even finer oil. The fruit is boiled down and
the kernel, after a drying process, is exported in bags
to England, where it is broken open and the contents
used for salad oil or margarine.

Before the war thousands of tons of palm oil and
kernels were shipped from the West Coast of Africa to
Germany every year. Now they are diverted to Eng¬
land where large kernel-crushing plants have been in¬
stalled and the whole activity has become a British
enterprise. With the eclipse of the German Colonial
Empire in Africa it is not likely that she can regain this
lost business.

The creation of new palmeries is merely one phase of
the company’s development. One of its largest tasks
is to safeguard the immense natural palmeries on its
concessions. The oil palm requires constant attention.

RESIDENTIAL QUARTERS AT ALBERTA

THE COMTE DE FLANDRE

ON THE CONGO RIVER

211

The undergrowth spreads rapidly and if it is not re¬
moved is liable to impair the life of the tree. Thou¬
sands of natives are employed on this work. A large
knife something like the Cuban machete is used.

Harvesting the regimes is a spectacular performance
not without its element of danger. The regime grows
at the top of the tree, usually a height of sixty or
seventy-five feet and sometimes more. The native
literally walks up the trunk with the help of a loop
made from some stout vine which encircles him. Arriv¬
ing at the top he fixes his feet against the trunk, leans
against the loop which holds him fast, and hacks away
at the regime . It falls with a heavy thud and woe be¬
tide the human being or the animal it strikes. The
natives will not cut fruit in rainy weather because many
have slipped on the wet bark and fallen to their death.

So wide is the Alberta fruit-producing area that a
narrow-gauge railway is necessary to bring the fruit in
to the mill. Along its line are various stations where the
fruit is mobilized, stripped from the regime and sent
down for refining in baskets. Each station has a super¬
intendent who lives on the spot. The personnel of all
the staff in the Congo is almost equally divided between
British and Belgians.

While the “H. C. B.” is the largest factor in the
palm oil industry in the Congo, many tons of kernels
are gathered every year by individuals who include thou¬
sands of natives. One reason why the savage takes
naturally to this occupation is that it demands little
work. All that he is required to do is to climb a tree in
the jungle and lop off a regime . He uses the palm oil
for his own needs or disposes of it to a member of his
tribe and sells the kernels to the white man.

The “H. C. B.” is independent of all other water

212

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

transport in the Congo. Its river tonnage aggregates
more than 6,000, and in addition it has many oil barges
on the various rivers where its vessels ply. The capacity
of some of the barges is 250 tons of oil. They are
usually lashed to the side of the steamer. The decks of
these barges are often piled high with bags of kernels
and become a favorite sleeping place for the black
voyagers for whom the thousands of insects that lurk
in them have no terrors. No bug inflicts a sharper sting
than these pests who make their habitat among the palm
kernels.

One of my fellow passengers on the “Comte de
Flandre” was I. F. Braham, the Associate Managing
Director of the “H. C. B.” in the Congo. Long the
friend and companion in Liberia of Sir Harry Johnston,
he was a most desirable and congenial companion. It
was on his suggestion and invitation that I spent the
week at Alberta and he shared the visit. Our hosts
were Major and Mrs. Claude Wallace.

Major Wallace was the District Manager of the
Alberta area and occupied a brick bungalow on the
bank of the river. He is a pioneer in exploration in the
French Congo and Liberia and went almost straight
from the battlefields of France, where he served with
distinction in the World War, out to his post in the
Congo. His wife is a fine example of the white woman
who has braved the dangers of the tropics. She left the
luxury and convenience of European life to establish
a home in the jungle.

It is easy to spot the refining influence of the woman
in the African habitation. You always see the effect
long before you behold the cause. One of these effects
is usually a neat garden. Mrs. Wallace had half an
acre of English roses in front of her house. They were

ON THE CONGO RIVER

213

the only ones I saw in Central Africa. The average
bachelor in this part of the world is not particularly
scrupulous about the appearance of his house. The
moment you observe curtains at the window you know
that there is a female on the premises.

My life at Alberta was one of the really delightful
experiences in the Congo. Every morning I set out
with Braham and Wallace on some tour of inspection.
Often we rode part of the way on the little light railroad.
The method of transport was unique. An ordinary
bench is placed on a small flat car. The propelling
power is furnished by two husky natives who stand on
either side of the bench and literally shove the vehicle
along with long sticks. It is like paddling a railroad
canoe. This transportation freak is technically called a
maculla. The strong-armed paddlers were able to de¬
velop an astonishing speed. I think that this is the
only muscle-power railroad in the world. Light en¬
gines are employed for hauling the palm fruit trains.

After our day in the field — for frequently we took
ur lunch with us — we returned before sunset and
bathed and dressed for dinner. In the Congo only a
madman would take a cold plunge. The most healthful
immersion is in tepid water. More than one English¬
man has paid the penalty with his life, by continuing
his traditional cold bath in the tropics. This reminds me
of a significant fact in connection with colonization.
Everyone must admit that the Briton is the best colo¬
nizer in the world. One reason is that he knows how to
rule the man of colour for he does it with fairness and
firmness. Another lies in the fact that he not only
keeps himself clean but he makes his environment sani¬
tary.

There is a tradition that the Constitution follows the

214

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

flag. I contend that with the Englishman the bath-tub
precedes the code of law and what is more important, it
is in daily use. There are a good many bath-tubs in the
Congo but they are employed principally as receptacles
for food supplies and soiled linen.

Those evenings at Alberta were as unforgetable as
their setting. Braham and Wallace were not only men
of the world but they had read extensively and had
travelled much. A wide range of subjects came under
discussion at that hospitable table whose spotless linen
and soft shaded lights were more reminiscent of London
and New York than suggestive of a far-away post on
the Congo River on the edge of the wilderness.

At Alberta as elsewhere, the aH. C. B.” is a moral
force. Each area has a doctor and a hospital. No de¬
tail of its medical work is more vital to the productive
life of the Colony that the inoculation of the natives
against sleeping sickness. This dread disease is the
scourge of the Congo and every year takes toll of hun¬
dreds of thousands of natives. Nor is the white man
immune. I saw a Belgian official dying of this loath¬
some malady in a hospital at Matadi and I shall never
forget his ravings. The last stage of the illness is al¬
ways a period when the victim becomes demented. The
greatest boon that could possibly be held out for Cen¬
tral Africa today would be the prevention of sleeping
sickness.

Another constructive work carried out under the
auspices of the “H. C. B.” is embodied in the native
schools. There is an excellent one at Alberta. It is
conducted by the Catholic Fathers of the Scheut Mis¬
sion. The children are trained to become wood-workers,
machinists, painters, and carpenters. It is the Booker
Washington idea transplanted in the jungle. The

ON THE CONGO RIVER

215

Scheut Missionaries and their Jesuit colleagues are do¬
ing an admirable service throughout the Congo. Some
of them are infused with the spirit that animated Father
Damien. Time, distance, and isolation count for naught
with them. It is no uncommon thing to encounter in
the bush a Catholic priest who has been on continuous
service there for fifteen or twenty years without a holi¬
day. At Luluaburg lives a Mother Superior who has
been in the field for a quarter of a century without
wandering more than two hundred miles from her field
of operations.

V

NOW FOR the last stage of the Congo River
trip. Like so many of my other expe¬
riences in Africa it produced a surprise.
One morning when we were about two hundred miles
north of Kinshassa I heard the whir of a motor engine,
a rare sound in those parts. I thought of aeroplanes
and instinctively looked up. Flying overhead toward
Coquilhatville was a 300-horse power hydroplane con¬
taining two people. Upon inquiry I discovered that it
was one of four machines engaged in carrying passen¬
gers, mail, and express between Kinshassa and Coquil¬
hatville.

The campaign against the Germans in East Africa
proved the practicability of aeroplanes in the tropics.
The Congo is the first of the Central African countries
to dedicate aviation to commercial uses and this prec¬
edent is likely to be extensively followed. Fifteen
hydroplanes have been ordered for the Congo River
service which will eventually be extended to Stanleyville.
Only those who have endured the agony of slow trans¬
port in the Congo can realize the blessing that air travel
will confer.

I was naturally curious to find out just what the
African native thought of the aeroplane. The moment
that the roar of the engine broke the morning silence,
everybody on the boat rushed to some point of vantage
to see the strange sight. The blacks slapped each other
on the shoulder, pointed at the machine, and laughed
and jabbered. Yet when my secretary asked a big

216

A TYPICAL OIL PALM FOREST

BRINGING IN THE PALM FRUIT

ON THE CONGO RIVER

217

Baluba if he did not think that the aeroplane was a
wonderful thing the barbarian simply grunted and re¬
plied, “White man can do anything.” He summed up
the native attitude toward his conqueror. I believe that
if a white man performed the most astounding feat of
magic or necromancy the native would not express the
slightest surprise.

At Kwamouth, where the Kasai flows into the Congo
River, we entered the so-called “Channel.” From this
point down to Stanley Pool the river is deep and the
current is swift. This means that for a brief time the
traveller enjoys immunity from the danger of run¬
ning aground on a sandbank. The whole country-side is
changed. Instead of the low and luxuriantly-wooded
shores the banks become higher with each passing hour.
Soon the land adjacent to the river merges into foot¬
hills and these in turn taper off into mountains. The
effect is noble and striking. No wonder Stanley went
into ecstasies over this scenery. He declared on more
than one occasion that it was as inspiring as any he had
seen in Wales or Scotland.

In the “Channel” another surprise awaits the travel¬
ler. The mornings are bitterly raw. This is probably
due to the high ground on either side of the river and the
strong currents of air that sweep up the stream. I can
frankly say that I really suffered from the cold within
striking distance of the equator. I did not feel com¬
fortable until I had donned a heavy sweater.

This sudden change in temperature explains one rea¬
son why so many Congo natives die under forty. They
are scantily clad, perspire freely, and lie out at night
with scarcely any covering. They go to sleep in a humid
atmosphere and wake up with the temperature forty
degrees lower. The natural result is that half of them

218

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

constantly have colds and the moment pneumonia de¬
velops they succumb. Congestion of the lungs vies with
sleeping sickness as the ravager of Middle Africa, and
especially certain parts of the Congo.

Kinshassa is situated on Stanley Pool, a lake-like
expansion of the Congo more than two hundred square
miles in area. It is dotted with islands. Nearly one-
third of the northern shore is occupied by the rocky
formations that Stanley named Dover Cliffs. They re¬
minded him of the famous white cliffs of England and
with the sunlight on them they do bear a strong re¬
semblance to one of the familiar signposts of Albion.
More than one Englishman emerging from the jungle
after long service remote from civilization has gotten a
thrill of home at the name and sight of these hills.

Stanley Pool has always been associated in my mind
with one of the most picturesque episodes in Stanley’s
life. He tells about it in his monumental work on the
Congo Free State and again relates it in his Auto¬
biography. It deals with Ngalyema, who was chief of
the Stanley Pool District in the early eighties. He de¬
manded and received a large quantity of goods for the
permission to establish a station here. After the ex¬
plorer had camped within ten miles of the Pool the old
pirate pretended that he had not received the goods
and sought to extort more. Stanley refused to be
bullied, whereupon the chief threatened to attack him in
force. Let Stanley now tell the story, for it is an il¬
lustration of the way he combated the usury and cun¬
ning of the Congo native.

I had hung a great Chinese gong conspicuously near the
principal tent. Ngalyema’s curiosity would be roused. All my
men were hidden, some in the steamboat on top of the wagon,
and in its shadow was a cool place where the warriors would

ON THE CONGO RIVER

219

gladly rest after a ten-mile march. Other of my men lay still
as death under tarpaulins, under bundles of grass, and in the
bush round about the camp. By the time the drum-taps and
horns announced Ngalyema’s arival, the camp seemed aban¬
doned except by myself and a few small boys. I was indolently
seated in a chair reading a book, and appeared too lazy to
notice anyone ; but, suddenly looking up and seeing my “brother
Ngalyema” and his warriors, scowlingly regarding me, I sprang
up and seized his hands, and affectionately bade him welcome,
in the name of sacred fraternity, and offered him my own chair.

He was strangely cold, and apparently disgruntled, and
said : —

“Has not my brother forgotten his road? What does he
mean by coming to this country?”

“Nay, it is Ngalyema who has forgotten the blood-bond
which exists between us. It is Ngalyema who has forgotten the
mountains of goods which I paid him. What words are these
of my brother?”

“Be warned, Rock-Breaker. Go back before it is too late.
My elders and people all cry out against allowing the white
man to come into our country. Therefore, go back before it
be too late. Go back, I say, the way you came.”

Speech and counter-speech followed. Ngalyema had ex¬
hausted his arguments ; but it was not easy to break faith and
be uncivil, with plausible excuse. His eyes were reaching round
seeking to discover an excuse to fight, when they rested on
the round, burnished face of the Chinese gong.

“What is that?” he said.

“Ah, that — that is a fetish.”

“A fetish! A fetish for what?”

“It is a war-fetish, Ngalyema. The slightest sound of that
would fill this empty camp with hundreds of angry warriors ;
they would drop from above, they would spring up from the
ground, from the forest about, from everywhere.”

“Sho ! Tell that story to the old women, and not to a
chief like Ngalyema. My boy tells me it is a kind of a bell.
Strike it and let me hear it.”

220

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

“Oh, Ngalyema, my brother, the consequences would be too
dreadful! Do not think of such a thing!”

“Strike it, I say.”

“Well, to oblige my dear brother Ngalyema, I will.”

And I struck hard and fast, and the clangourous roll rang
out like thunder in the stillness. Only for a few seconds,
however, for a tempest of human voices was heard bursting
into frightful discords, and from above, right upon the heads
of the astonished warriors, leaped yelling men; and from the
tents, the huts, the forest round about, they came by sixes,
dozens, and scores, yelling like madmen, and seemingly ani¬
mated with uncontrollable rage. The painted warriors became
panic-stricken ; they flung their guns and powder-kegs away,
forgot their chief, and all thoughts of loyalty, and fled on the
instant, fear lifting their heels high in the air; or, tugging at
their eye-balls, and kneading the senses confusedly, they saw,
heard, and suspected nothing, save that the limbo of fetishes
had suddenly broken loose!

But Ngalyema and his son did not fly. They caught the tails
of my coat, and we began to dance from side to side, a loving
triplet, myself being foremost to ward off the blow savagely
aimed at my “brothers,” and cheerfully crying out, “Hold
fast to me, my brothers. I will defend you to the last drop
of my blood. Come one, come all.”

Presently the order was given, “Fall in!” and quickly the
leaping forms became rigid, and the men stood in two long
lines in beautiful order, with eyes front, as though “at atten¬
tion!” Then Ngalyema relaxed his hold of my coat-tails, and
crept from behind, breathing more freely ; and, lifting his hand
to his mouth, exclaimed, in genuine surprise, “Eh, Mamma!
where did all these people come from?”

“Ah, Ngalyema, did I not tell you that thing was a power¬
ful fetish? Let me strike it again, and show you what else
it can do.”

“No! no! no!” he shrieked. “I have seen enough!”

The day ended peacefully. I was invited to hasten on to
Stanley Pool. The natives engaged themselves by the score

A SPECIMEN OF CICATRIZATION

A SANKURU WOMAN PLAYING NATIVE DRAUGHTS

ON THE CONGO RIVER

221

to assist me in hauling the wagons. My progress was thence¬
forth steady and uninterrupted, and in due time the wagons
and good-columns arrived at their destination.

Kinshassa was an accident. Leopoldville, which is
situated about ten miles away and the capital of the
Congo-Kasai Province, was expected to becdme the
center of white life and enterprise in this vicinity. It
was founded by Stanley in the early eighties and named
in honour of the Belgian king. It commands the river,
cataracts, forests and mountains.

Commerce, however, fixed Kinshassa as its base of
operation, and its expansion has been astonishing for
that part of the world. It is a bustling port and you can
usually see half a dozen steamers tied up at the bank.
There is a population of several hundred white people
and many thousands of natives. The Banque du Congo
Beige has its principal establishment here and there are
scores of well-stocked mercantile establishments. With
the exception of Matadi and Thysville it has the one
livable hotel in the Congo. Moreover, it rejoices in that
now indispensable feature of civic life which is expressed
in a cinema theatre. In the tropics all motion picture
houses are open-air institutions.

In cataloguing Kinshassa’s attractions I must not
omit the feature that had the strongest and most im¬
mediate lure for me. It was a barber shop and I made
tracks for it as soon as I arrived. I was not surprised
to find that the proprietor was a Portuguese who had
made a small fortune trimming the Samson locks of the
scores of agents who stream into the little town every
week. He is the only barber in the place and there is
no competition this side of Stanleyville, more than a
thousand miles away.

The seasoned residents of the Congo would never

222

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

think of calling Kinshassa by any other name than
“Kin.” In the same way Leopoldville is dubbed “Leo.”
Kinshassa is laid out in streets, has electric lights, and
within the past twelve months about twenty automobiles
have been acquired by its residents. There is a gay
social life, and on July first, the anniversary of the
birth of the Congo Free State, and when a celebration
is usually held, I saw a spirited football game between
British and Begian teams. Most of the big interna¬
tional British trading companies that operate in Africa
have branches in Kinshassa and it is not difficult to
assemble an English-speaking quorum.

In the matter of transportation Kinshassa is really
the key to the heart of the Congo. It is the rail-head
of the narrow-gauge line from Matadi and all merchan¬
dise that comes from Europe is transshipped at this
point to the boats that go up the Congo river as far as
Stanleyville. Thus every ton of freight and every
traveller bound for the interior must pass through
Kinshassa. When the railway from the Katanga is
constructed its prestige will increase.

Kinshassa owes a part of its development to the
Huileries du Congo Beige. Its plant dominates the
river front. There are a dozen huge tanks into which
the palm-oil flows from the barges. The fluid is then
run into casks and sent down by rail to Matadi, whence
it goes in steamers to Europe. More than a hundred
white men are in the service of the “H. C. B.” at Stanley
Pool. They live in standardized brick bungalows in
their own area which is equipped with tennis courts and
a library. On all English fete days the Union J ack is
hoisted and there is much festivity.

Two months had elapsed since I entered the Congo
and I had travelled about two thousand miles within its

ON THE CONGO RIVER

223

borders. This journey, short as it seems as distances go
these days, would have taken Stanley nearly two years
to accomplish in the face of the obstacles that hampered
him. I had only carried out part of my plan. The
Kasai was calling. The time was now at hand when I
would retrace my way up the Congo River and turn my
face towards the Little America that nestles far up in
the wilds.

L. Chad

NIGERL

o Massenya

CAMEROONS

L. Albert

Coquilhatville
> L.TtmbcT^^''

# B E

L. Leopold II
^ -

■PonthierviHe

GABON

:indu Uvira,

Kw'amoui
Brazzaville ^

.Kongolo

Djoko PundA j
>Tshikapa ) ■/'

L. Tanganyika-

'Loanda

rMweruJ/l

L. Bangweolo

Benguela

Zambezi

iivingstone-

RHODESIA

Victoria o

BECHUANALAND'

PROTECTORATE

GENERAL DRAFTING CO.INC..N.Y.

THE BELGIAN CONGO

VI — AMERICA IN THE CONGO

I

GO UP the Kasai River to Djoko Punda and
you believe, despite the background of tropi¬
cal vegetation and the ever-present naked sav¬
age, that for the moment you are back in the United
States. You see American jitneys scooting through
the jungle; you watch five-ton American tractors haul¬
ing heavy loads along the sandy roads ; you hear Ameri¬
can slang and banter on all sides, and if you are lucky
enough to be invited to a meal you get American hot
cakes with real American maple syrup. The air tingles
with Yankee energy and vitality.

All this means that you have arrived at the outpost
of Little America in the Belgian Congo — the first
actual signboard of the least known and most
picturesque piece of American financial venturing
abroad. It has helped to redeem a vast region from
barbarism and opened up an area of far-reaching
economic significance. At Djoko Punda you enter the
domain of the Forminiere, the corporation founded by
a monarch and which has a kingdom for a partner.
Woven into its story is the romance of a one-time bare¬
foot Virginia boy who became the commercial associate
of a king.

What is the Forminiere and what does it do? The
name is a contraction of Societe Internationale Fores-
tiere & Miniere du Congo. In the Congo, where com¬
panies have long titles, it is the fashion to reduce them to

226

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

the dimensions of a cable code-word. Thus the high-
sounding Compagnie Xndustrielle pour les Transporte
et Commerce au Stanley Pool is mercifully shaved to
“Citas.” This information, let me say, is a life-saver
for the alien with a limited knowledge of French and
whose pronunciation is worse.

Clearly to understand the scope and purpose of the
Forminiere you must know that it is one of the three
companies that have helped to shape the destiny of the
Congo. I encountered the first — the Union Miniere
— the moment I entered the Katanga. The second is
the Huileries du Congo Beige, the palm-oil producers
whose bailiwick abuts upon the Congo and Kwilu
Rivers. Now we come to the third and the most im¬
portant agency, so far as American interest is affected,
in the Forminiere, whose empire is the immense sec¬
tion watered by the Kasai River and which extends
across the border into Angola. In the Union Miniere
you got the initial hint of America’s part in the develop¬
ment of the Congo. That part, however, was entirely
technical. With the Forminiere you have the combina¬
tion of American capital and American engineering in
an achievement that is, to say the least, unusual.

The moment I dipped into Congo business history I
touched the Forminiere for the reason that it was the
pet project of King Leopold, and the last and favorite
corporate child of his economic statesmanship. More¬
over, among the leading Belgian capitalists interested
were men who had been Stanley’s comrades and who
had helped to blaze the path of civilization through the
wilds. King Albert spoke of it to me in terms of ap¬
preciation and more especially of the American end.
I felt a sense of pride in the financial courage and
physical hardihood of my countrymen who had gone so

AMERICA IN THE CONGO 227

far afield. I determined to see the undertaking at first
hand.

My experience with it proved to be the most exciting
of my whole African adventure. All that I had
hitherto undergone was like a springtime frolic com¬
pared to the journey up the Kasai and through the
jungle that lurks beyond. I saw the war-like savage
on his native heath; I travelled with my own caravan
through the forest primeval; I employed every con¬
ceivable kind of transport from the hammock swung
on a pole and carried on the shoulders of husky natives,
to the automobile. The primitive and modern met at
almost every stage of the trip which proved to be first
cousin to a thriller from beginning to end. Heretofore
I had been under the spell of the Congo River. Now I
was to catch the magic of its largest tributary, the Kasai.

Long before the Forminiere broke out its banner,
America had been associated with the Congo. It is not
generally known that Henry M. Stanley, who was born
John Rowlands, achieved all the feats which made him
an international figure under the name of his American
benefactor who adopted him in New Orleans after he
had run away to sea from a Welsh workhouse. He was
for years to all intents and purposes an American, and
carried the American flag on two of his famous expe¬
ditions.

President Cleveland was the first chief dignitary of
a nation to recognize the Congo Free State in the
eighties, and his name is perpetuated in Mount Cleve¬
land, near the headwaters of the Congo River. An
American Minister to Belgium, General H. S. Sanford,
had a conspicuous part in all the first International
African Associations formed by King Leopold to study
the Congo situation. This contact, however, save Stan-

228

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

ley’s share, was diplomatic and a passing phase. It
was the prelude to the constructive and permanent part
played by the American capitalists in the Forminiere,
chief of whom is Thomas F. Ryan.

The reading world associates Ryan with the whirlpool
of Big Finance. He ruled New York traction and he
recast the tobacco world. Yet nothing appealed to his
imagination and enthusiasm like the Congo. He saw
it in very much the same way that Rhodes viewed
Rhodesia. Every great American master of capital has
had his particular pet. There is always some darling of
the financial gods. The late J. P. Morgan, for example,
regarded the United States Steel Corporation as his
prize performance and talked about it just like a doting
father speaks of a successful son. The Union Pacific
System was the apple of E. H. Harriman’s eye, and
the New York Central was a Vanderbilt fetish for
decades. So with Ryan and the Congo. Other power¬
ful Americans have become associated with him, as you
will see later on, but it was the tall, alert, clear-eyed
Virginian, who rose from penniless clerk to be a Wall
Street king, who first had the vision on this side of the
Atlantic, and backed it with his millions. I am certain
that if Ryan had gone into the Congo earlier and had
not been engrossed in his American interests, he would
probably have done for the whole of Central Africa
what Rhodes did for South Africa.

We can now get at the beginnings of the Forminiere.
Most large corporations radiate from a lawyer’s office.
With the Forminiere it was otherwise. The center of
inspiration was the stone palace at Brussels where King
Leopold II, King of the Belgians, held forth. The year
1906 was not a particularly happy one for him. The
atrocity campaign was at its height abroad and the

THOMAS F. RYAN

r

■

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

229

Socialists were pounding him at home. Despite the
storm of controversy that raged about him one clear
idea shone amid the encircling gloom. That idea was
to bulwark the Congo Free State, of which he was also
sovereign, before it was ceded to Belgium.

Between 1879 and 1890 Leopold personally sup¬
ported the cost of creating and maintaining the Free
State. It represented an outlay of more than $2,500,-
000. Afterwards he had adequate return in the revenues
from rubber and ivory. But Leopold was a royal
spender in the fullest sense. He had a variety of fads
that ranged from youthful and beguiling femininity to
the building of palaces and the beautifying of his own
country. He lavished millions on making Brussels a
sumptuous capital and Ostend an elaborate seaside re¬
sort. With his private life we are not concerned.
Leopold the pleasure-seeker was one person; Leopold
the business man was another, and as such he was unique
among the rulers of Europe.

Leopold contradicted every known tradition of
royalty. The king business is usually the business of
spending unearned money. Your royal spendthrift is
a much more familiar figure than the royal miser. More¬
over, nobody ever associates productive power with a
king save in the big family line. His task is inherited
and with it a bank account sufficient to meet all needs.
This immunity from economic necessity is a large price
to pay for lack of liberty in speech and action. The
principal job of most kings, as we all know, is to be
a noble and acquiescent figure-head, to pin decorations
on worthy persons, and to open public exhibitions.

Leopold did all of these things but they were inci¬
dental to his larger task. He was an insurgent from
childhood. He violated all the rules of the royal game

230

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

not only by having a vision and a mind all his own but
in possessing a keen commercial instinct. Geography
was his hobby at school. Like Rhodes, he was forever
looking at maps. When he became king he saw that the
hope of Belgium economically lay in colonization. In
1860 he made a journey to the Far East, whence he
returned deeply impressed with trade opportunities in
China. Afterwards he was the prime mover in the
construction of the Pekin-Hankow Railway. I do not
think most persons know that Leopold at one time tried
to establish a Belgian colony in Ethiopia. Another act
in his life that has escaped the casual biographer was
his effort to purchase the Philippines from Spain. Now
you can see why he seized upon the Congo as a colo¬
nizing possibility the moment he read Henry M. Stan¬
ley’s first article about it in the London Telegraph.

There was a vital reason why Belgium should have a
big and prosperous colony. Her extraordinary in¬
ternal development demanded an outlet abroad. The
doughty little country so aptly called “The Cockpit of
Europe,” and which bore the brunt of the first German
advance in the Great War, is the most densely popu¬
lated in the world. It has two hundred and forty-seven
inhabitants for each square kilometer. England only
counts one hundred and forty-six, Germany one hun¬
dred and twenty-five, France seventy-two, and the
United States thirteen. The Belgians had to have
economic elbow room and Leopold was determined that
they should have it.

His creation of the Congo Free State was just one
evidence of his shrewdness and diplomacy. Half a
dozen of the great powers had their eye on this un¬
touched garden spot in Central Africa and would have
risked millions of dollars and thousands of men to grab

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

231

it. Leopold, through a series of International Associa¬
tions, engineered the famous Berlin Congress of 1884
and with Bismarck's help put the Free State on the
map, with himself as steward. It was only a year ago
in Germany that a former high-placed German states¬
man admitted to me that one of the few fundamental
mistakes that the Iron Chancellor ever made was to
permit Leopold to snatch the Congo from under the
very eyes and hands of Germany. I quote this episode
to show that when it came to business Leopold made
every king in Europe look like an office boy. Even so
masterful a manipulator of men as Cecil Rhodes failed
with him. Rhodes sought his aid in his trans-African
telegraph scheme but Leopold was too shrewd for him.
After his first audience with the Belgian king Rhodes
said to Robert Williams, “I thought I was clever but
I was no match for him.”

The only other modern king interested in business
was the former Kaiser, Mr. Wilhelm Hohenzollern.
Although he has no business sense in the way that
Leopold had it, he always had a keen appreciation of
big business as an imperial prop. Like Leopold, he
had a congested country and realized that permanent
expansion lay in colonization. The commercial mag¬
nates of Germany used him for their own ends but
their teamwork advanced the whole empire. Wilhelm
was a silent partner in the potash, shipping, and elec¬
tric-machinery trusts. He earned whatever he re¬
ceived because he was in every sense an exalted press-
agent, —a sort of glorified publicity promoter. His
strong point was to go about proclaiming the merits
of German wares and he always made it a point to
scatter samples. On a visit to Italy he left behind a
considerable quantity of soap. There was a great rush

232

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

to get these royal left-overs. Two weeks later a small
army of German soap salesmen descended upon the
country selling this identical product.

Whatever may be said of Leopold, one thing is cer¬
tain. He was not small. Wilhelm used the brains of
other men; Leopold employed his own, and every capi¬
talist who went up against him paid tribute to this
asset.

We can now go back to 1906, the year that was to
mark the advent of America into the Congo. Leopold
knew that the days of the Congo as a Free State were
numbered. His personally-conducted stewardship of
the Colony was being assailed by the Socialists on one
hand and the atrocity proclaimers on the other.
Leopold was undoubtedly sincere in his desire to eco¬
nomically safeguard the African possession before it
passed out of his control. In any event, during the
summer of that year he sent a message to Ryan asking
him to confer with him at Brussels. The summons
came out of a clear sky and at first the American finan¬
cier paid no attention to it. He was then on a holiday
in Switzerland. When a second invitation came from
the king, he accepted, and in September there began a
series of meetings between the two men which resulted
in the organization of the Forminiere and with it the
dawn of a real international epoch in American enter¬
prise.

In the light of our immense riches the timidity of
American capital in actual constructive enterprise
overseas is astonishing. Scrutinize the world business
map and you see how shy it has been. We own rubber
plantations in Sumatra, copper mines in Chile, gold
interests in Ecuador, and have dabbled in Russian and
Siberian mining. These undertakings are slight, how-

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

233

ever, compared with the scope of the world field and
our own wealth. Mexico, where we have extensive
smelting, oil, rubber, mining and agricultural invest¬
ments, is so close at hand that it scarcely seems like a
foreign country. Strangely enough our capital there
has suffered more than in any other part of the globe.
The spectacle of American pioneering in the Congo
therefore takes on a peculiar significance.

There are two reasons why our capital has not
wandered far afield. One is that we have a great coun¬
try with enormous resources and consequently almost
unlimited opportunities for the employment of cash at
home. The other lies in the fact that American capital
abroad is not afforded the same protection granted the
money of other countries. Take British capital. It is
probably the most courageous of all. The sun never
sets on it. England is a small country and her money,
to spread its wings, must go elsewhere. Moreover,
Britain zealously safeguards her Nationals and their
investments, and we, I regret to say, have not always
done likewise. The moment an Englishman or the
English flag is insulted a warship speeds to the spot
and John Bull wants to know the reason why.

Why did Leopold seek American capital and why
did he pick out Thomas F. Ryan? There are several
motives and I will deal with them in order. In the
first place American capital is about the only non¬
political money in the world. The English pound, for
example, always flies the Union Jack and is a highly
sensitive commodity. When England puts money into
an enterprise she immediately makes the Foreign
Office an accessory. German overseas enterprise is
even more meddlesome. It has always been the first
aid to poisonous and pernicious penetration. Even

234

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

French capital is flavoured with imperialism despite the
fact that it is the product of a democracy. Our dollars
are not hitched to the star of empire. We have no
dreams of world conquest. It is the safest politically to
deal with, and Leopold recognized this fact.

In the second place he did not want anything to inter¬
fere with his Congo rubber industry. Now we get to
the real reason, perhaps, why he sent for Ryan. In
conjunction with the late Senator Nelson W. Aldrich,
Ryan had developed the rubber industry in Mexico, by
extracting rubber from the guayele shrub which grows
wild in the desert. Leopold knew this — he had a way
of finding out about things — and he sought to kill
two birds with one stone. He wanted this Mexican
process and at the same time he needed capital for the
Congo. In any event, Ryan went to see him and the
Forminiere was born.

There is no need of rehearsing here the concrete de¬
tails of this enterprise. All we want are the essential
facts. Leopold realized that the Forminiere was the last
business venture of his life and he projected it on a
truly kingly scale. It was the final chance for huge
grants and the result was that the Forminiere received
the mining and mineral rights to more than 7,000,000
acres, and other concessions for agriculture aggregating
2,500,000 acres in addition.

The original capital was only 3,000,000 francs but
this has been increased from time to time until it is now
more than 10,000,000 francs. The striking feature of
the organization was the provision inserted by Leopold
that made Belgium a partner. One-half of the shares
were assigned to the Crown. The other half was divided
into two parts. One of these parts was subscribed by
the King and the Societe Generale of Belgium, and the

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

235

other was taken in its entirety by Ryan. Subsequently
Ryan took in as associates Daniel Guggenheim, Senator
Aldrich, Harry Payne Whitney and John Hays Ham¬
mond. When Leopold died his share went to his heirs.
Upon the death of Aldrich his interest was acquired by
Ryan, who is the principal American owner. No shares
have ever been sold and none will be. The original trust
certificate issued to Ryan and Guggenheim remains
intact. The company therefore remains a close corpora¬
tion in every respect and as such is unique among
kindred enterprises.

II

AT THIS point the question naturally arises
— what is the Societe Generale? To ask it
in Belgium would be on a par with inquiring
the name of the king. Its bank notes are in circulation
everywhere and it is known to the humblest peasant.

The Societe Generale was organized in 1822 and is
therefore one of the oldest, if not the oldest, joint stock
bank of the Continent. The general plan of the famous
Deutsche Bank of Berlin, which planted the German
commercial flag everywhere, and which provided a large
part of the bone and sinew of the Teutonic world-wide
exploitation campaign, was based upon it. With finance
as with merchandising, the German is a prize imitator.

The Societe Generale, however, is much more than a
bank. It is the dynamo that drives Belgian enterprise
throughout the globe. We in America pride ourselves
on the fact that huge combinations of capital geared up
to industry are a specialty entirely our own. We are
much mistaken. Little Belgium has in the Societe an
agency for development unique among financial insti¬
tutions. Its imposing marble palace on the Hue Royale
is the nerve center of a corporate life that has no geo¬
graphical lines. With a capital of 62,000,000 francs
it has piled up reserves of more than 400,000,000 francs.
In addition to branches called “filial banks” throughout
Belgium, it also controls the powerful “Banque pour
l’Etranger,” which is established in London, Paris, New
York, Cairo, and the Par East.

One distinctive feature of the Societe Generale is its

2S0

JEAN JADOT

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

237

close alliance with the Government. It is a sort of
semi-official National Treasury and performs for Bel¬
gium many of the functions that the Bank of England
transacts for the United Kingdom. But it has infinitely
more vigour and push than the Old Lady of Thread-
needle Street in London. Its leading officials are re¬
quired to appear on all imposing public occasions such
as coronations and the opening of Parliament. The
Belgian Government applies to the Societe Generate
whenever any national financial enterprise is to be
inaugurated and counts upon it to take the initial steps.
Thus it became the backbone of Leopold’s ramified proj¬
ects and it was natural that he should invoke its assist¬
ance in the organization of the Forminiere.

Long before the Forminiere came into being, the
Societe Generale was the chief financial factor in the
Congo. With the exception of the Huileries du Congo
Beige, which is British, it either dominates or has large
holdings in every one of the sixteen major corporations
doing business in the Colony and whose combined total
capitalization is more than 200,000,000 francs. This
means that it controls railways and river transport, and
the cotton, gold, rubber, ivory and diamond output.

The custodians of this far-flung financial power are
the money kings of Belgium. Chief among them is
J ean J adot, Governor of the Societe Generale — the
institution still designates its head by this ancient title
— and President of the Forminiere. In him and his
colleagues you find those elements of self-made success
so dear to the heart of the human interest historian. It
would be difficult to find anywhere a more picturesque
group of men than those who, through their association
with King Leopold and the Societe, have developed the
Congo and so many other enterprises.

238

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

Jadot occupies today the same position in Belgium
that the late J. P. Morgan held in his prime in America.
He is the foremost capitalist. Across the broad, flat-
topped desk of his office in that marble palace in the
Rue Royale the tides of Belgian finance ebb and flow.
Just as Morgan’s name made an underwriting in New
York so does Jadot’s put the stamp of authority on it
in Brussels. Morgan inherited a great name and a for¬
tune. Jadot made his name and his millions.

When you analyze the lives of American multi-mil¬
lionaires you find a curious repetition of history. Men
like John D. Rockefeller, Henry H. Rogers, Thomas F.
Ryan, and Russell Sage began as grocery clerks in small
towns. Something in the atmosphere created by spice
and sugar must have developed the money-making germ.
With the plutocrats of Belgium it was different. Prac¬
tically all of them, and especially those who ruled the
financial institutions, began as explorers or engineers.
This shows the intimate connection that exists between
Belgium and her overseas interests.

J adot is a good illustration. At twenty he graduated
as engineer from Louvain University. At thirty-five he
had directed the construction of the tramways of Cairo
and of the Lower Egyptian Railways. He was now
caught up in Leopold’s great dream of Belgian expan¬
sion. The moment that the king obtained the conces¬
sion for constructing the 1,200 mile railway from Pekin
to Hankow he sent Jadot to China to take charge.
Within eight years he completed this task in the face
of almost insuperable difficulties, including a Boxer up¬
rising, which cost the lives of some of his colleagues and
tested his every resource.

In 1905 he entered the Societe Generale. At once he
became fired with Leopold’s enthusiasm for the Congo

239

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

and the necessity for making it an outlet for Belgium.
Jadot was instrumental in organizing the Union
Miniere and was also the compelling force behind the
building of the Katanga Railway. In 1912 he became
Vice Governor of the Societe and the following year
assumed the Governorship. In addition to being Presi¬
dent of the Forminiere he is also head of the Union
Miniere and of the new railroad which is to connect the
Katanga with the Lower Congo.

When you meet Jadot you are face to face with a
human organization tingling with nervous vitality. He
reminds me more of E. H. Harriman than of any
other American empire builder that I have met, and
like Harriman he seems to be incessantly bound up to
the telephone. He is keen, quick, and forceful and
talks as rapidly as he thinks. Almost slight of body,
he at first gives the impression of being a student for
his eyes are deep and thoughtful. There is nothing
meditative in his manner, however, for he is a live
wire in the fullest American sense. Every time I talked
with him I went away with a new wonder at his stock of
world information. Men of the Jadot type never climb
to the heights they attain without a reason. In his case
it is first and foremost an accurate knowledge of every
undertaking. He never goes into a project without
first knowing all about it — a helpful rule, by the way,
that the average person may well observe in the em¬
ployment of his money.

If Jadot is a live wire, then his confrere, Emile Franc-
qui, is a whole battery. Here you touch the most ro¬
mantic and many-sided career in all Belgian financial
history. It reads like a melodrama and is packed with
action and adventure. I could almost write a book
about any one of its many stirring phases.

240

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

At fourteen Francqui was a penniless orphan. He
worked his way through a regimental school and at
twenty was commissioned a sub-lieutenant. It was 1885
and the Congo Free State had just been launched.
Having studied engineering he was sent out at once to
Boma to join the Topographic Brigade. During this
first stay in the Congo he was in charge of a boat-load of
workmen engaged in wharf construction. The captain
of a British gunboat hailed him and demanded that he
stop. Francqui replied,

“If you try to stop me I will lash my boat to yours
and destroy it with dynamite.” He had no further
trouble.

After three years service in the Congo he returned
to Brussels and became the military instructor of Prince
Albert, now King of the Belgians. The African fever
was in his veins. He heard that a mission was about
to depart for Zanzibar and East Africa. A knowledge
of English was a necessary part of the equipment of the
chief officer. Francqui wanted this job but he did not
know a syllable of English. He went to a friend and
confided his ambition.

“Are you willing to take a chance with one word?”
asked his colleague.

“I am,” answered the young officer.

He thereupon acquired the word “yes,” his friend’s
injunction being, “If you say ‘yes’ to every question
you can probably carry it off.”

Francqui thereupon went to the Foreign Office and
was immediately asked in English:

“Can you speak English?”

“Yes,” was his immediate retort.

“Are you willing to undertake the hazards of this
journey to Zanzibar?” queried the interrogator.

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

241

“Yes,” came the reply.

Luck was with Francqui for, as his good angel had
prophesied, his one word of English met every require¬
ment and he got the assignment. Since that time, I
might add, he has acquired a fluent command of the
English language. Francqui has always been willing to
take a chance and lead a forlorn hope.

It was in the early nineties that his exploits made his
name one of the greatest in African conquest and ex¬
ploration. He went out to the Congo as second in com¬
mand of what was known as the Bia Expedition, sent
to explore the Katanga and adjacent territory. After
two hard years of incessant campaigning the expedition
fell into hard lines. Captain Bia succumbed to small¬
pox and the column encountered every conceivable hard¬
ship. Men died by the score and there was no food.
Francqui took charge, and by his indomitable will held
the force together, starving and suffering with his men.
During this experience he travelled more than 5,000
miles on foot and through a region where no other white
man had ever gone before. He explored the Luapula,
the headwaters of the Congo, and opened up a new world
to civilization. No other single Congo expedition save
that of Stanley made such an important contribution to
the history of the Colony.

Most men would have been satisfied to rest with this
achievement. With Francqui it simply marked a mile¬
post in his life. In 1896, when he resigned from the
army, Leopold had fixed his eyes on China as a scene
of operations, and he sent Francqui there to clinch the
Pekin-Hankow concession, which he did. In the course
of these negotiations he met Jadot, who was later to be¬
come his associate both in the Societe Generate and in
the Forminere.

242

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

In 1901 Francqui again went to China, this time as
agent of the Compagnie d’Orient, which coveted the
coal mines of Kaiping that were supposed to be among
the richest in the world. The British and Germans also
desired this valuable property which had been operated
for some years by a Chinese company. As usual,
Francqui got what he went after and took possession of
the property. The crude Chinese method of mining had
greatly impaired the workings and they had to be en¬
tirely reconstructed. Among the engineers employed
was an alert, smooth-faced, keen-minded young Ameri¬
can named Herbert Hoover.

Upon his return to Brussels Francqui allied himself
with Colonel Thys, who was head of the Banque d’Out-
remer, the rival of the Societe Generale. After he had
mastered the intricacies of banking he became a director
of the Societe and with Jadot forged to the front in
finance. If Jadot stood as the Morgan, then Francqui
became the Stillman of the Belgian money world.

Then came the Great War and the German avalanche
which overwhelmed Belgium. Her banks were con¬
verted into hospitals; her industry lay prostrate; her
people faced starvation. Some vital agency was neces¬
sary to centralize relief at home in the same way that
the Commission for Relief in Belgium, — the famous
“C. R. B.” — crystallized it abroad.

The Comite Nationale was formed by Belgians to
feed and clothe the native population and it became the
disbursing agent for the “C. R. B.” Francqui was
chosen head of this body and directed it until the
armistice. It took toll of all his energy, diplomacy
and instinct for organization. Needless to say it was
one of the most difficult of all relief missions in the war.
Francqui was a loyal Belgian and he was surrounded

EMILE FRANCQUI

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

243

by the suspicious and domineering German conquerors.
Yet they trusted him, and his word in Belgium for more
than four years was absolute law. He was, in truth,
a benevolent dictator.

His war life illustrates one of the quaint pranks that
fate often plays. As soon as the “C. R. B.” was
organized in London Francqui hastened over to Eng¬
land to confer with the American organizers. To his
surprise and delight he encountered in its master spirit
and chairman, the smooth-faced young engineer whom
he had met out in the Kaiping coal mines before. It
was the first time that he and Hoover had seen each
other since their encounter in China. They now worked
shoulder to shoulder in the monster mercy of all history.

Francqui is blunt, silent, aggressive. When Belgium
wants something done she instinctively turns to him.
In 1920, after the delay in fixing the German repara¬
tion embarrassed the country, and liquid cash was im¬
perative, he left Brussels on three days’ notice and
within a fortnight from the time he reached New York
had negotiated a fifty-million-dollar loan. He is as
potent in official life as in finance for as Special Min¬
ister of State without portfolio he is a real power be¬
hind a real throne.

Although Francqui is a director in the Societe Gen-
erale, he is also what we would call Chairman of the
Board of Banqe d’Outremer. This shows that the well-
known institution of “community of interests” is not
confined to the United States. With Jadot he repre¬
sents the Societe in the Forminiere Board. I have used
these two men to illustrate the type represented by the
Belgian financial kings. I could mention various others.
They include Alexander Delcommune, famous as Congo
fighter and explorer, who is one of the leading figures of

244

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

the Banque d’Outremer; Edmond Solvay, the indus¬
trial magnate, and Edward Bunge, the Antwerp mer¬
chant prince. Almost without exception they and their
colleagues have either lived in the Congo, or have been
guided in their fortunes by it.

You have now had the historical approach with all
personal side-lights to the hour when America actually
invaded the Congo. As soon as Leopold and Ryan
finally got together the king said, “The Congo must
have American engineers. They are the best in the
world.” Thus it came about that Central Africa, like
South Africa, came under the galvanizing hand of the
Yankee technical expert. At Kimberley and Johannes¬
burg, however, the task was comparatively easy. The
mines were accessible and the country was known. With
Central Africa it was a different and more dangerous
matter. The land was wild, hostile natives abounded
on all sides, and going in was like firing a shot in the
dark.

The American invasion was in two sections. One
was the group of engineers headed by Sydney H. Ball
and R. D. L. Mohun, known as the Ball-Mohun Expe¬
dition, which conducted the geological investigation. The
other was in charge of S. P. Verner, an American who
had done considerable pioneering in the Congo, and de¬
voted itself entirely to rubber. The latter venture was
under the auspices of the American Congo Company,
which expected to employ the Mexican process in the
Congo. After several years the attempt was abandoned
although the company still exists.

I will briefly narrate its experience to show that the
product which raised the tempest around King Leo¬
pold’s head and which for years was synonymous with
the name of the Congo, has practically ceased to be an

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

245

important commercial commodity in the Colony. The
reason is obvious. In Leopold’s day nine-tenths of
the world’s supply of rubber was wild and came from
Brazil and the Congo. It cost about fifty cents a pound
to gather and sold for a dollar. Today more than ninety
per cent of the rubber supply is grown on plantations
in the Dutch East Indies, the Malay States, and the
Straits Settlements, where it costs about twenty cents
a pound to gather and despite the big slump in price
since the war, is profitable. In the Congo there is still
wild rubber and a movement is under way to develop
large plantations. Labor is scarce, however, while in
the East millions of coolies are available. This tells the
whole rubber story.

The Ball-Mohun Expedition was more successful
than its mate for it opened up a mineral empire and laid
the foundations of the Little America that you shall soon
see. Mohun was administrative head and Ball the
technical head and chief engineer. Other members
were Millard K. Shaler, afterwards one of Hoover’s
most efficient aids in the relief of Belgium, and Arthur
F. Smith, geologists; Roland B. Oliver, topographer;
A. E. H. and C. A. Reid, and N. Janot, prospectors.

Mohun, who had been engaged on account of his
knowledge of the country, had been American Consul
at Zanzibar and at Boma, and first left diplomacy to
fight the Arab slave-traders in the interior. When
someone asked him why he had quit the United States
Government service to go on a military mission he said,
“I prefer killing Arabs in the interior to killing time
at Boma.” He figured as one of Richard Harding
Davis’ “Soldiers of Fortune” and was in every sense a
unique personality.

You get some idea of the hazards that confronted the

246

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

American pioneers when I say that when they set forth
for the Kasai region, which is the southwestern part of
the Congo, late in 1907, they were accompanied by a
battalion of native troops under Belgian officers. Often
they had to fight their way before they could take speci¬
mens. On one occasion Ball was prospecting in a region
hitherto uninvaded by the white man. He was attacked
by a large body of hostile savages and a pitched battle
followed. In informal Congo history this engagement
is known as “The Battle of Ball’s Run,” although Ball
did no running. As recently as 1915 one of the For-
miniere prospectors, E. G. Decker, was killed by the
fierce Batshoks, the most belligerent of the Upper Kasai
tribes. The Ball-Mohun group, which was the first of
many expeditions, remained in the field more than two
years and covered a wide area.

Up to this time gold and copper were the only valu¬
able minerals that had been discovered in the Congo and
the Americans naturally went after them. Much to
their surprise, they found diamonds and thereby opened
up a fresh source of wealth for the Colony. The first
diamond was found at Mai Munene, which means “Big
Water,” a considerable waterfall discovered by Living¬
stone. This region, which is watered by the Kasai River,
became the center of what is now known as the Congo
Diamond Fields and remains the stronghold of Ameri¬
can engineering and financial enterprise in Central
Africa. On a wooded height not far from the head¬
waters of the Kasai, these path-finding Americans
established a post called Tshikapa, the name of a small
river nearby. It is the capital of Little America in the
jungle and therefore became the objective of the second
stage of my Congo journey.

WOMEN OF THE BATETELAS

Ill

KINSHASSA is nearly a thousand miles from
Tshikapa. To get there I had to retrace my
way up the Congo as far as Kwamouth, where
the Kasai empties into the parent stream. I also found
that it was necessary to change boats at Dima and con¬
tinue on the Kasai to Djoko Punda. Here begins the
jungle road to the diamond fields.

Up to this time I had enjoyed the best facilities that
the Congo could supply in the way of transport. Now
I faced a trip that would not only try patience but
had every element of the unknown, which in the Congo
means the uncomfortable. Fortunately, the “Lusanga,”
one of the Huileries du Congo Beige steamers, was
about to start for the Kwilu River, which branches off
from the Kasai, and the company was kind enough to
order it to take me to Dima, which was off the prescribed
itinerary of the vessel.

On a brilliant morning at the end of June I set forth.
Nelson was still my faithful servant and his smile and
teeth shone as resplendently as ever. The only change
in him was that his appetite for chikwanga had visibly in¬
creased. Somebody had told him at Kinshassa that the
Kasai country teemed with cannibals. Being one of
the world’s champion eaters, he shrank from being
eaten himself. I promised him an extra allowance of
food and a khaki uniform that I had worn in the war,
and he agreed to take a chance.

Right here let me give an evidence of the Congo na-

247

248

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

tive’s astounding quickness to grasp things. I do not
refer to his light-fingered propensities, however. When
we got to Kinshassa Nelson knew scarcely a word of the
local dialect. When we left a week later, he could jab¬
ber intelligently with any savage he met. On the four
weeks’ trip from Elizabethville he had picked up enough
French to make himself understood. The Central Afri¬
can native has an aptitude for languages that far sur¬
passes that of the average white man.

I was the only passenger on the “Lusanga,” which
had been reconstructed for Lord Leverhulme’s trip
through the Congo in 1914. I occupied the suite in¬
stalled for him and it was my last taste of luxury for
many a day. The captain, Albert Carrie, was a retired
lieutenant in the British Royal Navy, and the chief
engineer was a Scotchman. The Congo River seemed
like an old friend as we steamed up toward Kwamouth.
As soon as we turned into the Kasai I found that con¬
ditions were different than on the main river. There
was an abundance of fuel, both for man and boat. The
daily goat steak of the Congo was relieved by duck and
fish. The Kasai region is thickly populated and I saw
a new type of native, lighter in colour than elsewhere,
and more keen and intelligent.

The women of the Kasai are probably the most at¬
tractive in the Congo. This applies particularly to the
Batetelas, who are of light brown colour. From child¬
hood the females of this tribe have a sense of modesty
that is in sharp contrast with the nudity that prevails
elsewhere throughout the country. They swathe their
bodies from neck to ankle with gaily coloured calico.
I am often asked if the scant attire in Central Africa
shocked me. I invariably reply by saying that the con¬
temporary feminine fashion of near-undress in America

AMERICA IN THE CONGO 249

and Europe made me feel that some of the chololate-
hued ladies of the jungle were almost over-clothed!

The fourth day of my trip was also the American
Fourth of July. Captain Carrie and I celebrated by
toasting the British and American Navies, and it was
not in Kasai water. This day also witnessed a somewhat
remarkable revelation of the fact that world economic
unrest has penetrated to the very heart of the primitive
regions. While the wood-boys were getting fuel at a
native post, Carrie and I went ashore to take a walk
and visit a chief who had once been in Belgium. When
we got back to the boat we found that all the natives had
suspended work and were listening to an impassioned
speech by one of the black wheelmen. All these boats
have native pilots. This boy, who only wore a loin
cloth, was urging his fellows not to work so hard.
Among other things he said :

“The white man eats big food and takes a big sleep in
the middle of the day and you ought to do the same
thing. The company that owns this boat has much
money and you should all be getting more wages.”

Carrie stopped the harangue, fined the pilot a week’s
pay, and the men went back to work, but the poison had
been planted. This illuminating episode is just one of
the many evidences of industrial insurgency that I
found in Africa from the moment I struck Capetown.
In the Rand gold mining district, for example, the na¬
tives have been organized by British agitators and it
probably will not be long before Central Africa has the
I. W. W. in its midst! Certainly the “I Won’t Works”
already exist in large numbers.

This essentially modern spirit was only one of the
many surprises that the Congo native disclosed. An¬
other was the existence of powerful secret societies which

250

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

have codes, “grips,” and pass-words. Some antedate
the white man, indulge in human sacrifice, and have
branches in a dozen sections. Although Central Africa
is a land where the husband can stray from home at will,
the “lodge night” is thus available as an excuse for do¬
mestic indiscretion.

The most terrible of these orders is the Society of
the Leopard, formed to provide a novel and devilish
method of disposing of enemies. The members wear
leopard skins or spotted habits and throttle their foes
with a glove to which steel blades are affixed. The vic¬
tim appears to have been killed by the animal that cannot
change its spots. To make the illusion complete, the
ground where the victim has lain is marked with a stick
whose end resembles the feet of the leopard.

The leopard skin has a curious significance in the
Congo. For occasions where the white man takes an
oath on the Bible, the savage steps over one of these
skins to swear fealty. If two chiefs have had a quarrel
and make up, they tear a skin in two and throw the
pieces into the river, to show that the feud is rent asun¬
der. It corresponds to the pipe of peace of the Ameri¬
can Indian.

Another secret society in the Congo is the Lubuki,
whose initiation makes riding the goat seem like a
childish amusement. The candidate is tied to a tree and
a nest of black ants is distributed over his body. He is
released only after he is nearly stung to death. A repe¬
tition of this jungle third degree is threatened for vio¬
lation of any of the secrets of the order, the main pur¬
pose of which is to graft on non-members for food and
other necessities.

In civilized life the members of a fraternal society
are summoned to a meeting by telephone or letter. In

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

251

the Congo they are haled by the tom-tom, which is the
wireless of the woods. These huge drums have an un¬
canny carrying power. The beats are like the dots and
dashes of telegraphy. All the native news of Central
Africa is transmitted from village to village in this way.

I could continue this narrative of native habits and
customs indefinitely but we must get back to the “Lu-
sanga.” On board was a real character. He was Peter
the capita. In the Congo every group of native work¬
men is in charge of a capita, who would be designated a
foreman in this country. Life and varied experience had
battered Peter sadly. He spoke English, French, Ger¬
man, Portuguese, and half a dozen of the Congo dia¬
lects. He learned German while a member of an Afri¬
can dancing team that performed at the Winter Garden
in Berlin. His German almost had a Potsdam flavour.
He told me that he had danced before the former Kaiser
and had met many members of the Teutonic nobility.
Yet the thing that stood out most vividly in his memory
was the taste of German beer. He sighed for it daily.

Six days after leaving Kinshassa I reluctantly bade
farewell to Peter and the “Lusanga” at Dima. Here
I had the first piece of hard luck on the whole trip. The
little steamer that was to take me up the Kasai River
to Djoko Punda had departed five days before and I
was forced to wait until she returned. Fifteen years
ago Dima was the wildest kind of jungle. I found it a
model, tropical post with dozens of brick houses, a ship¬
yard and machine shops, avenues of palm trees and a
farm. It is the headquarters of the Kasai Company in
the Congo.

I had a brick bungalow to myself and ate with the
Managing Director, Monsieur Adrian Van den Hove.
He knew no English and my alleged French was pretty

252

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

bad. Yet we met three times a day at the table and
carried on spirited conversations. There was only one
English-speaking person within a radius of a hundred
miles and I had read all my English books. I vented
my impatience in walking, for I covered at least fifteen
miles through the jungle every day. This proceeding
filled both the Belgians and the natives with astonish¬
ment. The latter particularly could not understand
why a man walked about the country aimlessly. Usually
a native will only walk when he can move in the direc¬
tion of food or sleep. On these solitary trips I went
through a country that still abounds in buffalo. Occa¬
sionally you see an elephant. It is one thing to watch
a big tusker doing his tricks in a circus tent, but quite
another to hear him floundering through the woods,
tearing off huge branches of trees as he moves along
with what seems to be an incredible speed for so heavy
an animal.

There came the glad Sunday — it was my thirteenth
day at Dima — when I heard the whistle of the steam¬
boat. I dashed down to the beach and there was the
little forty-ton “Madeleine.” I welcomed her as a long-
lost friend and this she proved to be. The second day
afterwards I went aboard and began a diverting chapter
of my experience. The “Madeleine” is a type of the
veteran Congo boat. In the old days the Belgian pio¬
neers fought natives from its narrow deck. Despite in¬
cessant combat with sand-banks, snags and swift cur¬
rents — all these obstructions abound in the Kasai
River — she was still staunch. In command was the
only Belgian captain that I had in the Congo, and he
had been on these waters for twenty years with only one
holiday in Europe during the entire time.

I occupied the alleged cabin-de-luxe, the large room

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

253

that all these boats must furnish in case an important
State functionary wants to travel. My fellow passen¬
gers were two Catholic priests and three Belgian
“agents,” as the Congo factors are styled. I ate alone
on the main deck in front of my cabin, with Nelson in
attendance.

Now began a journey that did not lack adventure. It
was the end of the dry season and the Kasai was lower
than ever before. The channel was almost a continuous
sand-bank. We rested on one of them for a whole day.
I was now well into the domain of the hippopotamus.
I am not exaggerating when I say that the Kasai in
places is alive with them. You can shoot one of these
monsters from the bridge of the river boats almost as
easily as you could pick off a sparrow from the limb of
a park tree. I got tired of watching them. The flesh
of the hippopotamus is unfit for white consumption,
but the natives regard it as a luxury. The white man
who kills a hippo is immediately acclaimed a hero. One
reason is that with spears the black finds it difficult to
get the better of one of these animals.

Our first step was at a Lutheran Mission set in the
middle of a populous village. As we approached I saw
the American flag hanging over the door of the most
pretentious mud and grass house. When I went ashore
I found that the missionaries — a man and his wife —
were both American citizens. The husband was a
Swede who had gone out to Kansas in his boyhood to
work on a farm. There he married a Kansas girl, who
now speaks English with a Swedish accent. After
spreading the gospel in China and elsewhere, they
settled down in this lonely spot on the Kasai River.

I was immediately impressed with the difference be¬
tween the Congo River and the Kasai. The Congo is

254 AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

serene, brooding, majestic, and fringed with an endless
verdure. The Kasai, although 1,500 miles in length, is
narrower and more pugnacious. Its brown banks and
grim flanking mountains offer a welcome change from
the eternal green of the great river that gives the Colony
its name. The Kasai was discovered by Livingstone
in 1854.

I also got another change. Two days after I left
Dima we were blanketed with heavy fog every morning
and the air was raw and chill. On the Kasai you can
have every experience of trans- Atlantic travel with the
sole exception of seasickness.

As I proceeded up the Kasai I found continued evi¬
dence of the advance in price of every food commodity.
The omnipresent chicken that fetched a franc in 1914
now brings from five to ten. My old friend the goat
has risen from ten to thirty francs and he was as tough
as ever, despite the rise. But foodstuffs are only a small
part of these Congo economic troubles.

We have suffered for some time under the burden of
our inseparable companion, the High Cost of Living.
It is slight compared with the High Cost of Loving in
the Congo. Here you touch a real hardship. Before
the war a first-class wife — all wives are bought — sold
for fifty francs. Today the market price for a choice
spouse is two hundred francs and it takes hard digging
for the black man to scrape up this almost prohibitive
fee. Thus the High Cost of Matrimony enters the list
of universal distractions.

On the “Madeleine” was a fascinating black child
named Nanda. He was about five years old and strolled
about the boat absolutely naked. Most Congo parents
are fond of their offspring but this particular youngster,
who was bright and alert, was adored by his father, the

THE FALLS OF THE SANKURU

.

1

'

.

1

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

255

head fireman on the vessel. One day I gave him a cake
and it was the first piece of sweet bread he had ever
eaten. Evidently he liked it for afterwards he ap¬
proached me every hour with his little hands out¬
stretched. I was anxious to get a photograph of him
in his natural state and took him ashore ostensibly for
a walk. One of my fellow passengers had a camera and
I asked him to come along. When the boy saw that he
was about to be snapped he rushed back to the boat
yelling and howling. I did not know what was the mat¬
ter until he returned in about ten minutes, wearing an
abbreviated pair of pants and a short coat. He was will¬
ing to walk about nude but when it came to being pic¬
tured he suddenly became modest. This state of mind,
however, is not general in the Colony.

The African child is fond of playthings which shows
that one touch of amusement makes all childhood kin.
He will swim half a mile through a crocodile-infested
river to get an empty tin can or a bottle. One of the
favorite sports on the river boats is to throw boxes or
bottles into the water and then watch the children race
for them. On the Congo the fathers sometimes manu¬
facture rude reproductions of steamboats for their
children and some of them are astonishingly well made.

Exactly twelve days after we left Dima the captain
told me that we were nearing Djoko Punda. The
country was mountainous and the river had become
swifter and deeper for we were approaching Wissmann
Falls, the end of navigation for some distance. These
falls are named for Herman Wissman, a lieutenant in
the Prussian Army who in the opinion of such authori¬
ties as Sir Harry Johnston, ranks third in the heirarchy
of early Congo explorers. Stanley, of course, comes
first and Grenfell second.

256

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

On account of the lack of certain communication save
by runner in this part of Africa — the traveller can
always beat a wireless message — I was unable to send
any word of my coming and I wondered whom and what
I would find there. I had the strongest possible letters
to all the Forminiere officials but these pieces of paper
could not get me on to Tshikapa. I needed something
that moved on wheels. I was greatly relieved, there¬
fore, when we came in sight of the post to see two un¬
mistakable American figures standing on the bank.
What cheered me further were two American motor
cars nearby.

The two Americans proved to be G. D. Moody and
J. E. Robison. The former is Assistant Chief Engi¬
neer of the Forminiere in the field and the latter is in
charge of the motor transport. They gave me a genu¬
ine American welcome and that night I dined in Robi¬
son’s grass house off American food that had travelled
nearly fifteen thousand miles. I heard the first un¬
adulterated Yankee conversation that had fallen on my
ears since I left Elizabethville two months before.
When I said that I wanted to push on to Tshikapa at
once, Moody said, “We will leave at five in the morn¬
ing in one of the jitneys and be in Tshikapa tomorrow
night.” Moody was an incorrigible optimist as I was
soon to discover.

IV

AT DAWN the next morning and after a
breakfast of hot cakes we set out. Nelson was
in a great state of excitement because he had
never ridden in an automobile before. He was destined
not to enjoy that rare privilege very long. The rough
highway hewed by American engineers through the
thick woods was a foot deep in sand and before we had
proceeded a hundred yards the car got stuck and all
hands save Moody got out to push it on. Moody was
the chauffeur and had to remain at the wheel. Draped
in fog, the jungle about me had an almost eerie look.
But aesthetic and emotional observations had to give
way to practicality. Laboriously the jitney snorted
through the sand and bumped over tree stumps. After
a strenuous hour and when we had reached the open
country, the machine gave a groan and died on the
spot. We were on a broad plain on the outskirts of a
village and the broiling sun beat down on us.

The African picaninny has just as much curiosity
as his American brother and in ten minutes the whole
juvenile population was assembled around us. Soon the
grown-ups joined the crowd. Naked women examined
the tires as if they were articles of food and black war¬
riors stalked about with the same sort of “I told you so”
expression that you find in the face of the average
American watching a motor car breakdown. Human
nature is the same the world over. The automobile is
a novelty in these parts and when the Forminiere em¬
ployed the first ones the natives actually thought it was

257

258

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

an animal that would finally get tired and quit. Mine
stopped without getting tired !

Fir six hours Moody laboured under the car while I
sat in the glaring sun alongside the road and cursed
fate. Nelson spent his time eating all the available
food in sight. Finally, at three o’clock Moody gave up
and said, “We’ll have to make the rest of this trip in
a teapoy.”

A teapoy is usually a hammock slung on a pole carried
on the shoulders of natives. We sent a runner in to
Robison, who came back with two teapoys and a squad
of forty blacks to transport us. The “teapoy boy,” as he
is called, is as much a part of the African scheme of
life as a driver or a chauffeur is in America. He must
be big, strong, and sound of wind, because he is re¬
quired to go at a run all the time. For any considerable
journey each teapoy has a squad of eight men who al¬
ternate on the run without losing a step. They always
sing as they go.

I had never ridden in a teapoy before and now I
began a continuous trip in one which lasted eight hours.
Night fell almost before we got started and it was a
strange sensation to go sailing through the silent black
woods and the excited villages where thousands of
naked persons of all sizes turned out to see the show.
After two hours I began to feel as if I had been tossed
up for a week in an army blanket. The wrist watch that
I had worn throughout the war and which had with¬
stood the fiercest shell shocks and bombardments, was
jolted to a standstill. After the fourth hour I became
accustomed to the movement and even went to sleep for
a while. Midnight brought us to Kabambaie and the
banks of the Kasai, where I found food and sanctuary
at a Forminiere post. Here the thousands of tons of

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

259

freight that come up the river from Dima by steamer
and which are carried by motor trucks, ox teams, and on
the heads of natives to this point, are placed on whale¬
boats and sent up the river to Tshikapa.

Before going to bed I sent a runner to Tshikapa to
notify Donald Doyle, Managing Engineer of the
Forminiere in the field, that I was coming and to send
a motor car out to meet me. I promised this runner
much matabeesh, which is the African word for a tip,
if he would run the whole way. The distance through
the jungle was exactly seventy-two miles and he covered
it, as I discovered when I reached Tshikapa, in exactly
twenty-six hours, a remarkable feat. The matabeesh
I bestowed, by the way, was three francs (about eighteen
cents) and the native regarded it as a princely gift be¬
cause it amounted to nearly half a month’s wages.

By this time my confidence in the African jitney was
somewhat shaken. A new motor-boat had just been
received at Kabambaie and I thought I would take a
chance with it and start up the Kasai the next day.
Moody, assisted by several other engineers, set to work
to get it in shape. At noon of the second day, when we
were about to start, the engine went on a sympathetic
strike with the jitney, and once more I was halted. I
said to Moody, “I am going to Tshikapa without any
further delay if I have to walk the whole way.” This
was not necessary for, thanks to the Forminiere organi¬
zation, which always has hundreds of native porters at
Kabambaie, I was able to organize a caravan in a few
hours.

After lunch we departed with a complete outfit of
tents, bedding, and servants. The black personnel was
thirty porters and a picked squad of thirty-five teapoy
boys to carry Moody and myself. Usually these cara-

260

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

vans have a flag. I had none so the teapoy capita fished
out a big red bandanna handkerchief, which he tied to
a stick. With the crimson banner flying and the teapoy
carriers singing and playing rude native instruments,
we started off at a trot. I felt like an explorer going
into the unknown places. It was the real thing in
jungle experience.

From two o’clock until sunset we trotted through the
wilds, which were almost thrillingly beautiful. In
Africa there is no twilight, and darkness swoops down
like a hawk. All afternoon the teapoy men, after their
fashion, carried on what was literally a running cross¬
fire of questions among themselves. They usually boast
of their strength and their families and always discuss
the white man they are carrying and his characteristics.
I heard much muttering of Mafutta Mingi and I knew
long before we stopped that my weight was not a pleas¬
ant topic.

I will try to reproduce some of the conversation that
went on that afternoon between my carriers. I will
not give the native words but will translate into English
the questions and answers as they were hurled back and
forth. By way of explanation let me say beforehand
that there is no word in any of the Congo dialects for
“yes.” Affirmation is always expressed by a grunt.
Here is the conversation:

“Men of the white men.”

“Ugh.”

“Does he lie?”

“He lies not.”

“Does he shirk?”

“No.”

“Does he steal?”

“No.”

A CONGO DIAMOND MINE

HOW THE MINES ARE WORKED

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

261

“Am I strong?”

“Ugh.”

“Have I a good liver?”

“Ugh.”

So it goes. One reason why these men talk so much
is that all their work must be accompanied by some
sound. Up in the diamond fields I watched a native
chopping wood. Every time the steel blade buried itself
in the log the man said: “Good axe. Cut deep.” He
talked to the weapon just as he would speak to a human
being. It all goes to show that the Congo native is
simply a child grown to man’s stature.

The fact that I had to resort to the teapoy illustrates
the unreliability of mechanical transport in the wilds.
I had tried in vain to make progress with an automobile
and a motor boat, and was forced as a last resort to get
back to the human being as carrier. He remains the
unfailing beast of burden despite all scientific progress.

I slept that night in a native house on the outskirts
of a village. It was what is called a chitenda ,, which is
a grass structure open at all the sides. The last white
man to occupy this domicile was Louis Franck, the
Belgian Minister of the Colonies, who had gone up to
the Forminiere diamond fields a few weeks before. He
used the same jitney that I had started in, and it also
broke down with him. Moody was his chauffeur. They
made their way on foot to this village. Moody told the
chief that he had the real Bula Matadi with him. The
chief solemnly looked at Franck and said, “He is no
Bula Matadi because he does not wear any medals.”
Most high Belgian officials wear orders and the native
dotes on shiny ornaments. The old savage refused to
sell the travellers any food and the Minister had to

262 AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

share the beans of the negro boys who accompanied
him.

Daybreak saw us on the move. For hours we swung
through dense forest which made one think of the be¬
ginnings of the world when the big trees were king.
The vastness and silence were only comparable to the
brooding mystery of the jungle nights. You have no
feel of fear but oddly enough, a strange sense of se¬
curity.

I realized as never before, the truth that lay behind
one of Stanley’s convictions. He once said, “No luxury
of civilization can be equal to the relief from the tyranny
of custom. The wilds of a great city are greater than
the excruciating tyranny of a small village. The heart
of Africa is infinitely preferable to the heart of the
world’s largest city. If the way were easier, millions
would fly to it.”

Despite this enthralling environment I kept wonder¬
ing if that runner had reached Doyle and if a car had
been sent out. At noon we emerged from the forest into
a clearing. Suddenly Moody said, “I hear an auto¬
mobile engine.” A moment later I saw a small car
burst through the trees far ahead and I knew that relief
was at hand. Dr. John Dunn, the physician at Tshikapa,
had started at dawn to meet me, and my teapoy ad¬
ventures, for the moment, were ended. Dr. Livingstone
at Ujiji had no keener feeling of relief at the sight of
Stanley that I felt when I shook the hand of this
bronzed, Middle Western medico.

We lunched by the roadside and afterwards I got
into Dunn’s car and resumed the journey. I sent the
porters and teapoy men back to Kabambaie. Late in
the afternoon we reached the bluffs overlooking the
Upper Kasai. Across the broad, foaming river was

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

263

Tshikapa. If I had not known that it was an American
settlement, I would have sensed its sponsorship. It
radiated order and neatness. The only parallels in the
Congo are the various areas of the Huileries du Congo
Beige.

V

TSHIKAPA, which means “belt,” is a Little
America in every sense. It commands the
junction of the Tshikapa and Kasai rivers.
There are dozens of substantial brick dwellings, offices,
warehouses, machine-shops and a hospital. For a hun¬
dred miles to the Angola border and far beyond, the
Yankee has cut motor roads and set up civilization
generally. You see American thoroughness on all sides,
even in the immense native villages where the mine em¬
ployees live. Instead of having compounds the company
encourages the blacks to establish their own settlements
and live their own lives. It makes them more contented
and therefore more efficient, and it establishes a colony
of permanent workers. When the native is confined
to a compound he gets restless and wants to go back
home. The Americans are helping to solve the Congo
labour problem.

At Tshikapa you hear good old United States spoken
with every dialectic flavour from New England hardness
to Texas drawl. In charge of all the operations in the
field was Doyle, a clear-cut, upstanding American en¬
gineer who had served his apprenticeship in the Angola
jungles, where he was a member of one of the first
American prospecting parties. With his wife he lived
in a large brick bungalow and I was their guest in it
during my entire stay in the diamond fields. Mrs.
Doyle embodied the same courage that animated Mrs.
Wallace. Too much cannot be said of the faith and forti-

264

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

265

tude of these women who share their husband’s fortunes -
out at the frontiers of civilization.

At Tshikapa there were other white women, including
Mrs. Dunn, who had recently converted her hospitable
home into a small maternity hospital. Only a few
weeks before my arrival Mrs. Edwin Barclay, wife of
the manager of the Mabonda Mine, had given birth to
a girl baby under its roof, and I was taken over at once
to see the latest addition to the American colony.

On the day of my arrival the natives employed at this
mine had sent Mrs. Barclay a gift of fifty newly-laid
eggs as a present for the baby. Accompanying it was
a rude note scrawled by one of the foremen who had
attended a Presbyterian mission school. The birth of a
white baby is always a great event in the Congo. When
Mrs. Barclay returned to her home a grand celebration
was held and the natives feasted and danced in honour
of the infant.

There is a delightful social life at Tshikapa. Most
of the mines, which are mainly in charge of American
engineers, are within a day’s travelling distance in a
teapoy and much nearer by automobile. Some of the
managers have their families with them, and they fore¬
gather at the main post every Sunday. On Thanksgiv¬
ing, the Fourth of July, and Christmas there is always a
big rally which includes a dance and vaudeville show in
the men’s mess hall. The Stars and Stripes are un¬
furled to the African breeze and the old days in the
States recalled. It is real community life on the
fringe of the jungle.

I was struck with the big difference between the
Consro diamond fields and those at Kimberley. In
South Africa the mines are gaping gashes in the earth
thousands of feet wide and thousands deep. They are

266

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

all “pipes” which are formed by volcanic eruption.
These pipes are the real source of the diamonds. The
precious blue ground which contains the stones is spread
out on immense “floors” to decompose under sun and
rain. Afterwards it is broken in crushers and goes
through a series of mechanical transformations. The
diamonds are separated from the concentrates on a
pulsating table covered with vaseline. The gems cling
to the oleaginous substance. It is an elaborate process.

The Congo mines are alluvial and every creek and
river bed is therefore a potential diamond mine. The
only labour necessary is to remove the upper layer of
earth, — the “overburden” as it is termed — dig up the
gravel, shake it out, and you have the concentrate from
which a naked savage can pick the precious stones.
They are precisely like the mines of German South-
West Africa. So far no “pipes” have been discovered
in the Kasai basin. Many indications have been found,
and it is inevitable that they will be located in time.
The diamond-bearing earth sometimes travels very far
from its base, and the American engineers in the Congo
with whom I talked are convinced that these volcanic
formations which usually produce large stones, lie far
up in the Kasai hills. The diamond-bearing area of the
Belgian Congo and Angola covers nearly eight thou¬
sand square miles and only five per cent has been
prospected. There is not the slightest doubt that one
of the greatest diamond fields ever known is in the
making here.

Now for a real human interest detail. At Kimberley
the Zulus and Kaffirs know the value of the diamond
and there was formerly considerable filching. All the
workers are segregated in barbed wire compounds and
kept under constant surveillance. At the end of their

GRAVEL CARRIERS AT A CONGO MINE

CONGO NATIVES PICKING OUT DIAMONDS

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

267

period of service they remain in custody for two weeks
in order to make certain that they have not swallowed
any stones.

The Congo natives do not know what a diamond
really is. The majority believe that it is simply a piece
of glass employed in the making of bottles, and there
are a good many bottles of various kinds in the Colony.
Hence no watch is kept on the hundreds of Balubas
who are mainly employed in the task of picking out the
glittering jewels. During the past five years, when
the product in the Congo fields has grown steadily, not
a single karat has been stolen. The same situation
obtains in the Angola fields.

In company with Doyle I visited the eight principal
mines in the Congo field and saw the process of mining
in all its stages of advancement. At the Kisele de¬
velopment, which is almost within sight of Tshikapa,
the small “jigs” in which the gravel is shaken, are oper¬
ated by hand. This is the most primitive method. At
Mabonda the concentrate pans are mounted on high
platforms. Here the turning is also by hand but on a
larger scale. The Ramona mine has steam-driven pans,
while at Tshisundu, which is in charge of William Mc¬
Millan, I witnessed the last word in alluvial diamond
mining. At this place Forminiere has erected an im¬
posing power plant whose tall smokestack dominates
the surrounding forest. You get a suggestion of Kim¬
berley for the excavation is immense, and there is the
hum and movement of a pretentious industrial enter¬
prise. Under the direction of William McMillan a
research department has been established which is ex¬
pected to influence and possibly change alluvial opera¬
tions.

Our luncheon at Tshisundu was attended by Mrs.

268

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

McMillan, another heroine of that rugged land. Along¬
side sat her son, born in 1918 at one of the mines in
the field and who was as lusty and animated a youngster
as I have seen. His every movement was followed by
the eagle eye of his native nurse who was about twelve
years old. These native attendants regard it as a special
privilege to act as custodians of a white child and in¬
variably a close intimacy is established between them.
They really become playmates.

It is difficult to imagine that these Congo diamond
mines were mere patches of jungle a few years ago.
The task of exploitation has been an immense one. Be¬
fore the simplest mine can be operated the dense forest
must be cleared and the river beds drained. Every day
the mine manager is confronted with some problem
which tests his ingenuity and resource. Only the Anglo-
Saxon could hold his own amid these trying circum¬
stances.

No less difficult were the natives themselves. Before
the advent of the American engineers, industry was un¬
known in the Upper Kasai. The only organized ac¬
tivity was the harvesting of rubber and that was rather
a haphazard performance. With the opening of the
mines thousands of untrained blacks had to be drawn
into organized service. They had never even seen the
implements of labour employed by the whites. When
they were' given wheel-barrows and told to fill and
transport the earth, they placed the barrows on their
heads and carried them to the designated place. They
repeated the same act with shovels.

The Yankees have thoroughly impressed the value
and the nobility of labour. I asked one of the employes
at a diamond mine what he thought of the Americans.
His reply was, “Americans and work were born on the
same day.”

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

269

The labour of opening up the virgin land was only
one phase. Every piece of machinery and every tin of
food had to be transported thousands of miles and this
condition still obtains. The motor road from Djoko
Punda to Kabambaie was hacked by American en¬
gineers through the jungle. It is comparatively easy
to get supplies to Djoko Punda although everything
must be shifted from railway to boat several times. Be¬
tween Djoko Punda and Tshikapa the material is
hauled in motor trucks and ox-drawn wagons or con¬
veyed on the heads of porters to Kabambaie. Some of
it is transshipped to whale-boats and paddled up to
Tshikapa, and the remainder continues in the wagons
overland. During 1920 seven hundred and fifty tons
of freight were hauled from Djoko Punda in this
laborious way.

At the time of my visit there were twelve going mines
in the Congo field, and three new ones were in various
stages of advancement. The Forminiere engineers also
operate the diamond concessions of the Kasai Company
and the Bas Congo Katanga Railway which will run
from the Katanga to Kinshassa.

More than twelve thousand natives are employed
throughout the Congo area alone and nowhere have I
seen a more contented lot of blacks. The Forminiere
obtains this good-will by wisely keeping the price of
trade goods such as salt and calico at the pre-war rate.
It is an admirable investment. This merchandise is
practically the legal tender of the jungle. With a cup
of salt a black man can start an endless chain of trading
that will net him a considerable assortment of articles
in time.

The principal natives in the Upper Kasai are the
Balubas, who bear the same relation to this area as the

270

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

Bangalas do to the Upper Congo. The men are big,
strong, and fairly intelligent. The principal tribal mark
is the absence of the two upper central incisor teeth.
These are usually knocked out in early boyhood. No
Baluba can marry until he can show this gaping space
in his mouth. Although the natives abuse their teeth
by removing them or filing them down to points, they
take excellent care of the remaining ivories. Many
polish the teeth with a stick and wash their mouths
several times a day. The same cannot be said of many
civilized persons.

I observed that the families in the Upper Kasai
were much more numerous that elsewhere in the Congo.
A Bangala or Batetela woman usually has one child
and then goes out of the baby business. In the region
dominated by the Forminiere it is no infrequent thing
to see three or four children in a household. A woman
who bears twins is not only hailed as a real benefactress
but the village looks upon the occasion as a good omen.
This is in direct contrast with the state of mind in East
Africa, for example, where one twin is invariably killed.

I encountered an interesting situation concerning
twins when I visited the Mabonda Mine. This is one of
the largest in the Congo field. Barclay, the big-boned
American manager, formerly conducted engineering
operations in the southern part of America. He there¬
fore knows the Negro psychology and the result is that
he conducts a sort of amiable and paternalistic little
kingdom all his own. The natives all come to him with
their troubles, and he is their friend, philosopher and
guide.

After lunch one day he asked me if I would like to
talk to a native who had a story. When I expressed
assent he took me out to a shed nearby and there I saw

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

271

a husky Baluba who was labouring under some excite¬
ment. The reason was droll. Four days before, his
wife had given birth to twins and there was great ex¬
citement in the village. The natives, however, refused
to have anything to do with him because, to use their
phrase, “he was too strong.” His wife did not come
under this ban and was the center of jubilation and
gesticulation. The poor husband was a sort of heroic
outcast and had to come to Barclay to get some food
and a drink of palm wine to revive his drooping spirits.

The output in the Congo diamond area has grown
from a few thousand karats to hundreds of thousands
of karats a year. The stones are small but clear and
brilliant. This yield is an unsatisfactory evidence of
the richness of the domain. The ore reserves are more
than ten per cent of the yearly output and the surface
of the concession has scarcely been scratched. Expe¬
rienced diamond men say that a diamond in the ground
is worth two in the market. It is this element of the
unknown that gives the Congo field one of its principal
potentialities.

The Congo diamond fields are merely a part of the
Forminiere treasure-trove. Over in Angola the con¬
cession is eight times larger in area, the stones are
bigger, and with adequate exploitation should surpass
the parent production in a few years. Six mines are al¬
ready in operation and three more have been staked out.
The Angola mines are alluvial and are operated pre¬
cisely like those in Belgian territory. The managing
engineer is Glenn H. Newport, who was with Decker
in the fatal encounter with Batchoks. The principal
post of this area is Dundu, which is about forty miles
from the Congo border.

As I looked at these mines with their thousands of

272

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

grinning natives and heard the rattle of gravel in the
“jigs” my mind went back to Kimberley and the im¬
mense part that its glittering wealth played in determin¬
ing the economic fate of South Africa. Long before the
gold “rush” opened up in the Rand, the diamond mines
had given the southern section of the continent a rebirth
of prosperity. Will the Congo mines perform the same
service for the Congo? In any event they will be a
determining factor in the future world diamond output.

N o record of America in the Congo would be complete
without a reference to the high part that our missionaries
have played in the spiritualization of the land. The
stronghold of our religious influence is also the Upper
Kasai Basin. In 1890 two devoted men, Samuel N.
Lapsley, a white clergyman, and William H. Sheppard,
a Negro from Alabama, established the American Pres¬
byterian Congo Mission at Luebo which is about one
hundred miles from Tshikapa straight across country.

The valley of the Sankuru and Kasai Rivers is one of
the most densely populated of all the Belgian Congo.
It is inhabited by five powerful tribes — the Baluba, the
Bena Lulua, the Bakuba, the Bakete and the Zappo-
zaps, and their united population is one-fifth of that of
the whole Colony. Hence it was a fruitful field for la¬
bour but a hard one. From an humble beginning the
work has grown until there are now seven important
stations with scores of white workers, hundreds of native
evangelists, one of the best equipped hospitals in Africa,
and a manual training school that is teaching the youth
of the land how to become prosperous and constructive
citizens. Under its inspiration the population of Luebo
has grown from two thousand in 1890 to eighteen thou¬
sand in 1920.

The two fundamental principles underlying this

WASHING OUT GRAVEL

DONALD DOYLE (LEFT) AND MR. MARCOSSON

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

278

splendid undertaking have been well summed up as
follows: “First, the attainment of a Church supported
by the natives through the thrift and industry of their
own hands. The time is past when we may merely
teach the native to become a Christian and then
leave him in his poverty and squalor where he can
be of little or no use to the Church. Second, the prep¬
aration of the native to take the largest and most in¬
fluential position possible in the development of the
Colony. Practically the only thing open to the
Congolese is along the mechanical and manual lines.”

One of the noblest actors in this American missionary
drama was the late Rev. W. M. Morrison, who went out
to the Congo in 1896. Realizing that the most urgent
need was a native dictionary, he reduced the Baluba-
Lulua language to writing. In 1906 he published a
Dictionary and Grammar which included the Parables
of Christ, the Miracles, the Epistles to the Romans in
paraphrase. He also prepared a Catechism based on
the Shorter and Child’s Catechisms. This gave the
workers in the field a definite instrument to employ, and
it has been a beneficent influence in shaping the lives and
morals of the natives.

One phase of the labours of the American Presby¬
terian Congo Mission discloses the bondage of the
Congo native to the Witch Doctor. The moment he
feels sick he rushes to the sorcerer, usually a bedaubed
barbarian who practices weird and mysterious rites, and
who generally succeeds in killing off his patient. More
than ninety per cent of the pagan population of Africa
not only acknowledges but fears the powers of the Witch
Doctor. Only two-fifths of one per cent are under
Christian medical treatment. The Presbyterian Mis¬
sionaries, therefore, from the very outset have sought to

274

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

bring the native into the ken of the white physician. It
is a slow process. One almost unsurmountable obstacle
lies in the uncanny grip that the “medicine man” wields
in all the tribes.

It is largely due to the missionaries that the practice
of handshaking has been introduced in the Congo.
Formerly the custom was to clap hands when exchang¬
ing greetings. The blacks saw the Anglo-Saxons grasp
hands when they met and being apt imitators in many
things, they started to do likewise. One of the first things
that impressed me in Africa was the extraordinary
amount of handshaking that went on when the people
met each other even after a separation of only half an
hour.

VI

I HAD originally planned to leave Africa at St.
Paul de Loanda in Portuguese West Africa, where
Thomas F. Ryan and his Belgian associates have
acquired the new oil wells and set up still another im¬
portant outpost of our overseas financial venturing. But
so much time had been consumed in reaching Tshikapa
that I determined to return to Kinshassa, go on to
Matadi, and catch the boat for Europe at the end of
August.

There were two ways of getting back to Kabambaie.
One was to go in an automobile through the jungle, and
the other by boat down the Kasai. Between Kabambaie
and Djoko Punda there is practically no navigation
on account of the succession of dangerous rapids. Since
my faith in the jitney was still impaired I chose the
river route and it gave me the most stirring of all my
African experiences. The two motor boats at Tshikapa
were out of commission so I started at daybreak in a
whale-boat manned by forty naked native paddlers.

The fog still hung over the countryside and the scene
as we got under way was like a Rackham drawing of
goblins and ghosts. I sat forward in the boat with the
ranks of singing, paddling blacks behind me. From the
moment we started and until I landed, the boys kept up
an incessant chanting. One of their number sat forward
and pounded the iron gunwale with a heavy stick.
When he stopped pounding the paddlers ceased their
efforts. The only way to make the Congo native work
is to provide him with noise.

27 5

276

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

All day we travelled down the river through schools
of hippopotami, some of them near enough for me to
throw a stone into the cavernous mouths. The boat
capita told me that he would get to Kabambaie by sun¬
down. Like the average New York restaurant waiter,
he merely said what he thought his listener wanted to
hear. I fervently hoped he was right because we not
only had a series of rapids to shoot up-river, but at
Kabambaie is a seething whirlpool that has engulfed
hundreds of natives and their boats. At sunset we had
only passed through the first of the troubled zones.
Nightfall without a moon found me still moving, and
with the swirling eddy far ahead.

I had many close calls during the war. They ranged
from the first-line trenches of France, Belgium, and
Italy to the mine fields of the North Sea while a winter
gale blew. I can frankly say that I never felt such ap¬
prehension as on the face of those surging waters, with
black night and the impenetrable jungle about me.
The weird singing of the paddlers only heightened the
suspense. I thought that every tight place would be
my last. Finally at eight o’clock, and after it seemed
that I had spent years on the trip, we bumped up against
the shore of Kabambaie, within a hundred feet of the
fatal spot.

The faithful Moody, who preceded me, had revived
life in the jonah jitney and at dawn the next day we
started at full speed and reached Djoko Punda by
noon. The “Madeleine” was waiting for me with steam
up, for I sent a runner ahead. I had ordered Nelson
back from Kabambaie because plenty of servants were
available there. He spent his week of idleness at Djoko
Punda in exploring every food known to the country.
At one o’clock I was off on the first real stage of my

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

277

homeward journey. The swift current made the down¬
ward trip much faster than the upward and I was not
sorry.

As we neared Basongo the captain came to me and
said, “I see two Americans standing on the bank. Shall
I take them aboard?”

Almost before I could say that I would be delighted,
we were within hailing distance of the post. An Ameri¬
can voice with a Cleveland, Ohio, accent called out to
me and asked my name. When I told him, he said,
“I’ll give you three copies of the Saturday Evening
Post if you will take us down to Dima. We have been
stranded here for nearly three weeks and want to go
home.”

I yelled back that they were more than welcome for
I not only wanted to help out a pair of countrymen in
distress but I desired some companionship on the boat.
They were Charles H. Davis and Henry Fairbairn,
both Forminiere engineers who had made their way
overland from the Angola diamond fields. Only one
down-bound Belgian boat had passed since their arrival
and it was so crowded with Belgian officials on their way
to Matadi to catch the August steamer for Europe, that
there was no accommodation for them. By this time they
were joined by a companion in misfortune, an American
missionary, the Rev. Roy Fields Cleveland, who was
attached to the Mission at Luebo. He had come to
Basongo on the little missionary steamer, “The
Lapsley,” and sent it back, expecting to take the Belgian
State boat. Like the engineers, he could get no passage.

Davis showed his appreciation of my rescue of the
party by immediately handing over the three copies of
the Post , which were more than seven months old and
which had beguiled his long nights in the field. Cleve-

278

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

land did his bit in the way of gratitude by providing
hot griddle cakes every morning. He had some Ameri¬
can cornmeal and he had taught his native servant how
to produce the real article.

At Dima I had the final heart-throb of the trip. I
had arranged to take the “Fumu N’Tangu,” a sister
ship of the “Madeleine,” from this point to Kinshassa.
When I arrived I found that she was stuck on a sand¬
bank one hundred miles down the river. My whole
race against time to catch the August steamer would
have been futile if I could not push on to Kinshassa at
once.

Happily, the “Yser,” the State boat that had left
Davis, Fairbairn, and Cleveland high and dry at
Basongo, had put in at Dima the day before to repair
a broken paddle-wheel and was about to start. I beat
the “Madeleine’s” gangplank to the shore and tore over
to the Captain of the “Yser.” When I told him I had
to go to Kinshassa he said, “I cannot take you. I only
have accommodations for eight people and am carrying
forty.” I flashed my royal credentials on him and he
yielded. I got the sofa, or rather the bench called a
sofa, in his cabin.

On the “Yser” I found Mr. and Mrs. Charles L.
Crane, both Southerners, who were returning to the
United States after eight years at service at one of the
American Presbyterian Mission Stations. With them
were their two youngest children, both born in / the
Congo. The eldest girl, who was five years old, could
only speak the Baluba language. From her infancy
her nurses had been natives and she was facing the
problem of going to America for the first time without
knowing a word of English. It was quaintly amusing
to hear her jabber with the wood-boys and the firemen

THE PARK AT BOMA

A STREET IN MATADI

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

279

on board and with the people of the various villages
where we stopped.

The Cranes were splendid types of the American mis¬
sionary workers for they were human and companion¬
able. I had found Cleveland of the same calibre. Like
many other men I had an innate prejudice against the
foreign church worker before I went to Africa. I
left with a strong admiration for him, and with it a
profound respect.

Kinshassa looked good to me when we arrived after
four days’ travelling, but I did not tarry long. I was
relieved to find that I was in ample time to catch the
August steamer at Matadi. It was at Kinshassa that
I learned of the nominations of Cox and Harding for
the Presidency, although the news was months old.

The morning after I reached Stanley Pool I boarded
a special car on the historic narrow-gauge railway that
runs from Kinshassa to Matadi. At the station I was
glad to meet Major and Mrs. Wallace, who like myself
were bound for home. I invited them to share my car
and we pulled out. On this railway, as on all other
Congo lines, the passengers provide their own food.
The Wallaces had their servant whom I recognized as
one of the staff at Alberta. Nelson still held the fort
for me. Between us we mobilized an elaborate lunch
fortified by fruit that we bought at one of the many
stations where we halted.

We spent the night at the hotel at Thvsville high
in the mountains and where it was almost freezing cold.
This place is named for General Albert Thvs, who was
attached to the colonial administration of King Leopold
and who founded the Comoaenie du Congo Pour le
Commerce et l’lndustrie, the “Queen-Dowager,” as it
is called, of all the Congo companies. His most endur-

280 AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

ing monument, however, is the Chemin de Fer du Congo
Matadi-Stanley Pool. He felt with Stanley that
there could be no development of the Congo without a
railway between Matadi and Stanley Pool.

The necessity was apparent. At Matadi, which is
about a hundred miles from the sea, navigation on the
Congo River ceases because here begins a succession of
cataracts that extend almost as far as Leopoldville. In
the old days all merchandise had to be carried in sixty-
pound loads to Stanley Pool on the heads of natives.
The way is hard for it is up and down hill and traverses
swamps and morasses. Every year ten thousand men
literally died in their tracks. The human loss was only
one detail of the larger loss of time.

Under the stimulating leadership of General Thys,
the railway was started in 1890 and was opened for
traffic eight and a half years later. Perhaps no railway
in the world took such heavy toll. It is two hundred
and fifty miles in length and every kilometer cost a
white life and every meter a black one. Only the graves
of the whites are marked. You can see the unending
procession of headstones along the right of way. Dur¬
ing its construction the project was bitterly assailed.
The wiseacres contended that it was visionary, imprac¬
ticable, and impossible. In this respect it suffered the
same experience as all the other pioneering African
railways and especially those of Sierra Leone, the Gold
Coast, Uganda, and the Soudan.

The scenery between Thvsville and Matadi is noble
and inspiring. The track winds through grim high¬
lands and along lovelv valleys. The hills are rich with
colour, and occasionally you can see a frightened ante¬
lope scurrying into cover in the woods. As you ap¬
proach Matadi the landscape takes on a new and more

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

281

rugged beauty. Almost before you realize it, you
emerge from a curve in the mountains and the little
town so intimately linked with Stanley’s early trials as
civilizer, lies before you.

Matadi is built on a solid piece of granite. The name
is a version of the word matari which means rock. In
certain parts of Africa the letter “r” is often substituted
for “d.” Stanley’s native name was in reality “Bula
Matari,” but on account of the license that I have in¬
dicated he is more frequently known as “Bula Matadi,”
the title now bestowed on all officials in the Congo. It
was at Matadi that Stanley received the designation be¬
cause he blasted a road through the rocks with dynamite.

With its winding and mountainous streets and its
polyglot population, Matadi is a picturesque spot. It is
the goal of every official through the long years of his
service in the bush for at this place he boards the
steamer that takes him to Europe. This is the pleasant
side of the picture. On the other hand, Matadi is where
the incoming ocean traveller first sets foot on Congo
soil. If it happens to be the wet season the foot is
likely to be scorched for it is by common consent one of
the hottest spots in all the universe. That well-known
fable about frying an egg in the sun is an every-day
reality here six months of the year.

Matadi is the administrative center of the Lower
Congo railway which has extensive yards, repair-shops,
and hospitals for whites and blacks. Nearby are the
storage tanks and pumping station of the oil pipe line
that extends from Matadi to Kinshassa. It was in¬
stalled just before the Great War and has only been
used for one shipment of fluid. With the outbreak of
hostilities it was impossible to get petroleum. Now that
peace has come, its operations will be resumed because

282

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

it is planned to convert many of the Congo River
steamers into oil-burners.

Tied up at a Matadi quay was “The Schoodic,” one of
the United States Shipping Board war-built freighters.
The American flag at her stem gave me a real thrill for
with the exception of the solitary national emblem I
had seen at Tshikapa it was the first I had beheld since
I left Capetown. I lunched several times on board and
found the international personnel so frequent in our
merchant marine. The captain was a native of the
West Indies, the first mate had been born in Scotland,
the chief engineer was a Connecticut Yankee, and
the steward a Japanese. They were a happy family
though under the Stars and Stripes and we spent many
hours together spinning yarns and wishing we were
back home.

In the Congo nothing ever moves on schedule time.
I expected to board the steamer immediately after my
arrival at Matadi and proceed to Antwerp. There was
the usual delay, and I had to wait a week. Hence the
diversion provided by “The Schoodic” was a godsend.

The blessed day came when I got on “The Anvers-
ville” and changed from the dirt and discomfort of the
river boat and the colonial hotel to the luxury of the
ocean vessel. It was like stepping into paradise to
get settled once more in an immaculate cabin with its
shining brass bedstead and the inviting bathroom
adjacent. I spent an hour calmly sitting on the divan
and revelling in this welcome environment. It was al¬
most too good to be true.

Nelson remained with me to the end. He helped the
stewards place my luggage in the ship, which was the
first liner he had ever seen. He was almost appalled
at its magnitude. I asked him if he would like to ac-

A GENERAL VIEW OF MATADI

AMERICA IN THE CONGO

283

company me to Europe. He shook his head solemnly
and said, “No, master. The ship is too big and I am
afraid of it. I want to go home to Elizabethville.” As
a parting gift I gave him more money that he had ever
before seen in his life. It only elicited this laconic
response, “Now I am rich enough to buy a wife.” With
these words he bade me farewell.

“The Anversville” was another agreeable surprise.
She is one of three sister ships in the service of the
Compagnie Beige Maritime du Congo. The other two
are “The Albertville” and “The Elizabethville.” The
original “Elizabethville” was sunk by a German sub¬
marine during the war off the coast of France. These
vessels are big, clean, and comfortable and the service
is excellent.

All vessels to and from Europe stop at Boma, the
capital of the Congo, which is five hours steaming down
river from Matadi. We remained here for a day and a
half because the Minister of the Colonies was to go
back on “The Anversville.” I was glad of the oppor¬
tunity for it enabled me to see this town, which is the
mainspring of the colonial administration. The palace
of the Governor-General stands on a commanding hill
and is a pretentious establishment. The original capi¬
tal of the Congo was Vivi, established by Stanley at a
point not far from Matadi. It was abandoned some
year ago on account of its undesirable location. There
is a strong sentiment that Leopoldville and not Boma
should be the capital and it is not unlikely that this
change will be made.

The Minister of the Colonies and Monsieur Henry,
the Governor-General, who also went home on our boat,
received a spectacular send-off. A thousand native
troops provided the guard of honour which was drawn

284

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

up on the bank of the river. Native bands played, flags
waved, and the populace, which included hundreds of
blacks, shouted a noisy farewell.

Slowly and majestically the vessel backed away from
the pier and turned its prow downstream. With
mingled feelings of relief and regret I watched the
shores recede as the body of the river widened. Near the
mouth it is twenty miles wide and hundreds of feet deep.

At Banana Point I looked my last on the Congo
River. For months I had followed its winding way
through a land that teems with hidden life and resists
the inroads of man. I had been lulled to sleep by its dull
roar; I had observed its varied caprice; I had caught the
glamour of its subtle charm. Something of its vast and
mysterious spirit laid hold of me. Now at parting the
mighty stream seemed more than ever to be invested
with a tenacious human quality. Sixty miles out at sea
its sullen brown current still vies with the green and
blue of the ocean swell. It lingers like the spell of all
Africa.

The Congo is merely a phase of the larger lure.

INDEX

Albert, King of Belgium, 141, 226, 240

Albert, Lake, 60, 180

Alberta, 208, 209, 211, 212, 214

Albertville, 60

Ants, 155, 156

Armour, J. Ogden, 125

Bailey, Sir Abe, 135
Ball, Sidney H., 244, 245
Baluba. 203

Bangala, The, 194 195, 200, 203
Barclay, Mrs. Edwin, 265
Barclay, Mr. Edwin, 265, 270
Barnato. Barney, 70-80, 86
Basuto, 92

Bechuanaland, 103, 106-108, 113
Behr, H. C., 86
Beira, 119, 127, 150
Belgian Congo, 59, 81, 107, 124, 125,
130, 139-177, 225, 227-230, 241-
284

Benguella, 151
Bia Expedition, 241
Bolobo, 202

Botha, General, 16-17, 19, 22, 23,
24-26, 38, 39, 74, 98
Braham, I. F., 212, 213, 214
Brandsma, Father, 192, 193
British South Africa Company, 108-
111, 115, 126-127
Broken Hill Railway, 146
Bukama, 61, 160, 163
Bulawayo, 104-106, 112, 113, 127,
130, 134, 135, 144, 150
Bunge, Edward, 244
Butner, Daniel, 149
Butters, Charles, 86, 88

Cairo, 57

Cameroons, 100, 101

Campbell, J. G., 167-168
“Cape-boy,” 93
Cape Colony, 23, 64
‘ ‘Cape-to-Cairo,” 57-101, 108, 146,
150-151

Capetown, 17, 28-30, 57, 68, 74, 76,
104, 105, 114
Carnahan, Thomas, 149
Carrie, Albert, 248-249
Carson, Sir Edward, 27
Casement, Sir Roger, 100, 142
Chaka, 105

Chaplin, Sir Drummond, 109-110
Chilembwe, John, 94
Clement, Victor M., 86, 88
Cleveland, President, 227
Cleveland, Rev. Roy Fields, 277, 278
“Comte de Flandre,” 189-192, 197
Congo-Kasai Province, 221, 246, 248
Congo River, The, 59, 140-145, 153,
160-162, 179-284
Coquilhatville, 201-202, 216
Crane, Mr. and Mrs. Charles L.,
278-279

Creswell, Col. F. H. P., 29-30
Cullinan, Thomas M., 90
Curtis, J. S., 86, 88

Davis, Charles H., 277, 278
Dean, Captain, 187, 188
DeBeers, 78-80, 129
Delcommune, Alexander, 243-244
Diamonds, 64, 76, 77-90, 94, 134, 1.36,
146, 152, 244, 265; Congo Fields,
265-269; Congo Output, 152
Djoko Punda, 225, 247, 255, 269, 275,
276

Doyle, Donald, 259, 262, 267
Doyle, Mrs. Donald, 264
Dubois, Lieutenant, 187-188
Dunn, Dr. John, 262

288

INDEX

Durban 69
Dutoitspan Mine, 81

Elizabethville, 145, 147, 148, 149,
153, 157, 181

Fairbairn, Henry, 277, 278
Forminiere, The, 225-228, 232-234,
237, 256, 257, 261, 277
Franck, Louis, 169-176, 179
Francqui, Emile, 239-243
Fungurume, 157, 160

George, Lloyd, 15, 38, 40-42, 45
German East Africa, 70, 101, 166
German South-West Africa, 25, 70,
73, 81, 99, 101, 152
Germany in Africa, 98-101, 150, 151,
165, 166, 174, 210, 216, 231
Gerome, 157, 181
Gordon, General, 58, 187
Grenfell, George, 198, 201, 203, 255
Grey, George, 147

Groote Schuur, 32-34, 36, 41, 47, 53,
114

Guggenheim, Daniel, 235

Hammond, John Hays, 84, 86, 88,
128-129, 235

Harriman, E. H., 238, 239
Heilman, Fred, 86

Hertzog, General W. B. M., 25-28,
46, 50-51, 53
Hex River, 76
Honnold, W. L., 86
Horner, Preston K., 149, 157
Hottentot, 92, 93
Hoy, Sir William W., 66-67
Huileries du Congo Beige, 189, 208-
212, 222, 226, 263

Jadot, Jean, 237-238, 239, 241, 243
Jameson, Raid, 23, 86, 87, 89, 100, 115
Jameson, Sir Starr 80, 89, 106, 111,
117, 136
Janot, N., 245
Jenkins, Hennen, 86, 87
Jennings, Sidney, 86

Johannesburg, 30, 65, 76, 78, 84, 85*
89, 93, 103, 105, 244
Johnston, Sir Harry, 197, 201, 203,
212, 255

Kabalo, 60, 165
Kabambaie, 258, 259, 275 276
Kaffir, 64, 71, 82, 92, 266
Kahew, Frank, 149
Kambove, 149, 150
Karoo, 77

Kasai River, 95-96, 156, 189, 191,
199, 217, 223, 225, 227, 246, 247,
249, 253-258, 264, 269, 275
Katanga, 145-146, 147, 148, 149,
150-153, 165, 174-175, 181, 194,
226,241

Kimberley, 64, 76, 77, 90, 94, 134,
135, 146, 154, 244, 265
Kindu, 59, 168-169, 170
Kinshassa, 153, 190, 201, 216, 217,
221-222, 247, 275, 281
Kitchener, Lord, 15, 39, 77
Kito, 180-181
Kongolo, 59, 166, 168, 177
Kruger, Paul, 22, 38, 47, 87-88, 89,
100, 107

Kwamouth, 217, 247
Kwilu River, 47, 209, 226

Labram, George, 82-83
Lane, Capt. E. F. C., 43
Leggett, T. H., 86

Leopold, King, 106, 139, 142, 150,
158, 226, 227, 228, 229, 230-235y
244, 245

Leopoldville, 221, 222
Leverhulme, Lord, 189, 208, 248
Leverville, 209
Lewaniki, 125

Livingstone, Dr., 184, 185, 254
Lobengula, 105, 106, 112, 115, 134
“Louis Cousin,” 160-162
Lowa, 170

Lualaba River, 59, 60, 160, 161-164,
168, 170, 177, 190, 191, 197
Luluaburg, 215
Lusanga, 249, 251

INDEX

287

Mabonda Mine, 265, 270
“Madeleine/' 252-254, 270
Mafeking, 103
Maguire, Rochfort, 107
Mahagi, 59-60, 62
Maize, 124-125
Mashonaland, 106, 111-112
Matabele, 103, 105, 106, 112, 113,
115, 126, 134
Matadi, 279-281, 282
Matopo Hills, 113-114, 115, 135
McMillan, William, 267
McMillan, Mrs. William, 268
Mein, Capt. Thomas, 86, 88
Mein, W. W., 86
Merriman, J. X., 94
Milner, Lord, 118
Mohun, R. D. L., 244, 245, 246
Moody, G. D., 256, 257, 258, 259,
261, 276

Morgan, J. P. 74, 228, 238
Morrison, Rev. W. M., 273
Moul, R. D., 143

Nanda, 254, 255
Natal, 21, 23, 78, 122
Nelson, 181-182, 248, 257, 258, 276,
282, 283

Newport, Glenn H., 271
Nile River, 59, 60, 175
Nyassaland, 94, 142

Oliver, Roland B., 245
Orange Free State, 21, 23, 25, 50,
106, 139

Perkins, H. C., 86
Plumer, Lord, 113
Ponthierville, 59, 152, 170
Port Elizabeth, 72, 77
Portuguese East Africa, 106, 112, 113,
150

Prester, John, 94
Pretoria, 47, 76, 90, 93

Rand, The, 84-85, 86, 87, 89, 152, 249

Reid, A. E. H., 245

Reid, C. A., 245

Rey, General de la, 25, 45

Rhodes, Cecil, 17, 20, 32, 58, 60-61,
77-83, 86, 104-110, 114-121, 125,
129-137, 150, 165, 186, 220
Rhodesia, 18, 33, 59, 94, 103-110,
114-121, 122-131
Roberts, Lord, 16
Robinson, J. B., 85
Robison, J. E., 256, 258
Rondebosch, 32
Roos, Tielman, 53-54
Roosevelt, Theodore, 19
Rudd, C. D., 107

Ryan, Thomas F., 228, 232-235, 244,
275

Sabin, Charles H., 74
Sakania, 144

Sanford, General H. S., 227, 228
Selous, F. C., Ill
Seymour, Louis, 86
Shaler, Millard K., 245
Smartt, Sir Thomas, 52
Smith, Hamilton, 86
Smuts, Jan Christian, 15-20, 23, 24-
26, 28, 29-56, 98
Snow, Frederick, 149
Societe Generale, 234-236, 239
Solvay, Edmond, 244
Soudan Railway, 60
Stanley, Henry M., 159, 166, 170, 177,
183, 184, 185-188, 194, 196, 201,
203, 217, 218-221, 227, 228, 230,
255, 262

Stanley Pool, 218, 222, 279
Stanleyville, 59, 162, 166, 168, 169,
175, 177-180, 183, 185, 189, 190,
196, 200

Steyne, President, 49
Stoddard, Lothrop, 96
Stonelake, Dr., 202

Tambeur, General, 165
Tanganyika Lake, 60, 142, 150, 166,
169

Teneriffe, 69
Thompson, F. R., 107
Thompson, Samuel, 86
Thompson, W. B., 74
Thys, General Albert, 279, 280

288

INDEX

Tippo Tib, 166, 184-185
Togoland, 100-101
“Tony”, 133

Transvaal, 21, 23, 50, 106
Tshikapa, 247, 256, 259, 262, 263,
264, 265, 267, 275, 282

Uganda, 59

Union of South Africa, 18, 20, 23

Van den Hove, Adrian M., 251-252
Venezilos, 15
Verner, S. P., 244
Victoria Falls, 104, 127, 130-132
Vryburg, 119

Wallace, Major Claude, 212, 213, 214
Wallace, Mrs. Claude, 212
Wangermee, General Emile, 148
Wankie, 128

Ward, Herbert, 184-188, 203
Warriner, Ruel C., 86
Webb, H. H., 86
Webber, George, 86
Wheeler, A. E., 149
Whitney, Harry Payne, 235
Williams, Gardner F., 82, 88
Williams, Robert, 61, 146, 150, 151,
175

Wilson, Woodrow, 37, 40, 42, 43, 50
Wissman, Herman, 255

Yale, Thomas, 149
Yeatman, Pope, 86

Zambesi River, 18, 109, 131-132
Zambesia, 108
Zimbabwe Ruins, 130
Zulu, 64, 71, 82, 92, 93, 266